U.s, 

rUOCEEDINGS 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT, 



INCLUDING THE 



ADDRESSES 



DELIVERED IN THE 



SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES 



THURSDAY, APRIL 12, 186C. 



Mm-mi 



WASHINGTON: 

GOVERNMKNT I'UINTING OFFICE. 
186G. 



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I? 



■1 



V K O C E E D I N G S 



DEATH OF llOX. SOLOMON FOOT 



IN THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, 
WKDNE.SDAY, MARCH -JS, 1866. " 



Ihtnnrlis of Mr. Sr.MM;i:, of Mas^itchusctts. 

!Mr. Pkf;sidk.\t : A great bereavement Las fallen iqion the Senate. 
Mr. Foot, a senator of Vermont, one of our most honored associates, 
and the oldest among us in continuous service, died this morning at 
8 o'clock. He has passed from this scene of duty and of honor. In 
the presence of such a sorrow it seems better that public business 
should be suspended in this chamber for to-day. Accordin"-ly, I 
shall make a motion which 1 believe will have the sympathetic con- 
currence of the Senate. 1 make it in the absence of the surviving 
senator of Vermont, who is now necessarily engaged in attendance 
upon the family of the deceased, and after consultation with him. I 
move that the Senate do now adjourn. 

The motion was unanimously agreed to, and the Senate adjourncKl. 



THURSDAY, JIARCII 29, 1866. 
Remarks of Mr. Poi-AXD, <// Vermont. 
'Mr. ]'ia:&iDE.\T : I rise to perform a most painful duty. A very 
few months Bincc Vermont was represented in the Senate of the 
United States by two of her most distinguished citizens, of large 
ability, tried integrity, and filled with the wisdom derived from long 
experience in public affairs. Just previous to the commencement of 
the present session one of these eminent men, my predecessor on 



this lloov, was calk'il aMay by Jratli. AVliilo the voices ot' mourn- 
ing tor his loss are yet sounding in our ears, the bolt has again 
fallen, and Vermont is again c;illed to weep over the dead form oi' 
the other. 3Iy colleague in this body, and one of its oldest and most 
distiuguislu'dmembers, the Hon. Solomon Foot, died at his lodgings 
in this city yesterday, at about eight o'clock in the morning, lie 
endured a long and painful sickness with ])utience and resignation, 
and departi'd this life with bright and cheerful hoj)es of a blessed 
innnortality in tlie life to come. The time which has elapsed since 
this great sorrow has fallen upon us has been so short, that amid 
the grief and care occasioned b^' the sad event, 1 have found no 
time in which to prepare to speak suitably of the character and dis- 
tinguished public services of our departed associate; and 1 shall 
therefore ask the iiululgence of the Senate on some future day, when 
time shall have a little dulled the sharp edge of our grief, for myself 
and others who ma}' desire an opportunity to pay ajipropriate tribute 
to the memory of the deceased. 

I now oti'er the following resolutions, and ask their present con- 
sideration : 

Rcso/vcd, That the membeii? of the Senate, from a sincere desire 
of showing every mark of respect to the Hon. Solomon Foot, deceased, 
late a senator from the State of Vermont, will go into mourning for the 
residue of the present session by the usual mode of wearing crape on 
the loft .arm. 

licsolrcd, That the Senate will attend the funeral of the deceased 
from the Senate chamber at 1 o'clock to-day; and that the committee 
of arrangements, consisting of ^lessrs. Doolittle, Anthony, Howard, 
Hendricks, Sherman, and Buckalew, superintend the same. 

Ordered, That the Secretary comuuniicate these proceedings to 
the House of Representatives. 

The resolutions were unanimously adopted. 



'1' 11 E F U N E Jt A L (' E R E MONIES 



Siruion Inj \U:V. I5iK(kN SiMjCRI.aM), JJ. I>. 

At 1 f)'(lo(k f). III., on tlif; 2'.)\.\\ of Marcli, tlir; corps, attondcfl liy 
tint cornniiltct; of arranf((;mc;iit.s, pall-bcarerH, family and frionflu of llie 
deceased, and citizenH of Vermont, wan removed from the late resi- 
dence of tlie deceased, and placed in the area in the ceiitrt? of the 
Senate chamber, wliere seats were provided for the remainin;^ sen- 
ator and representatives from Vermont, and the family of the d(- 
ceased. 'i'he jndf^es and officers of the .Supreme Court of the United 
States, the J^resident of the United States, and tlie heads of the 
various departments, and the members of the House of Representa- 
tives, preceded by their Speak«;r and officers, entered tlie Senate 
chamber at intervals, and were conducted to the seats assigned to 
them. 

'J'lic pall-bearers were senators Fessenden, Harris, Jolinson, Guthrie, 
J.aiir;of Indiana, and Sumner Jyie-utenant General Grant and otlier 
officers of the army commingled in the solemn scent;. The Rev. E. 
11. Gray, D. 1)., Chaplain of the Senate, and the Rev. C. 13. lioyntoii, 
Chaplain of the House of R(;jiresentative.s, officiated in the devotional 
serviccB; and the Rev. Byron Sunderland, D. 1)., delivered tlie fol- 
lowing discourse over the bier : 

"Like as a father pitieth his cliildren, so the Lord pitietli them that 
ft'ar him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we an; 
dust. As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so 
he ffourisheth, for the wind passeth over it and it is gone, and th(; 
jdfice thereof shall know it no more. But the mercy of the Lord is 
fr(jm everlasting to ev(;rlaHting upon them that fear him ; and his 
righteousness unto children's children, to such as keep his covenant, 
and to those that remember his commandments to do them." — Psalm 
ciii, i:j-18. 

There is no need, on this solemn occasion, to make an exposition 
of this language or to build an argument upon it. Interpreted by 
the dispensation of I'lovidence which convenes us here to-day in 



this liigb place of the nation, at this anxious period of our pubUc 
affairs, it becomes a sermon in itself, plainly speaking borne to every 
heart its great lessons of instruction, of admonition, and of consola- 
\Mu. Here is the fatherhood of God and the frailty of man. 
Here is omnipotence directed by compassion to shield and save the 
creatures that must otherwise perish without a remedy and without 
a hope; here is divine, illimitable fidelity encouraging and assuring 
human weakness and waywardness to seek in the paths of virtue 
and of piety that secure possession which may outlast all the fleeting 
trifles of time, and remain forever in the jjresence and favor of 
Jehovah, when the earth shall have crumbled, and the firmament 
shall have been rolled together as a scroll. 

Would that now we, in this funeral hour, might lay aside the 
conventional and proper pomps of this Senate chamber, as we 
have been willing to arrest the momentous tide of the daily affairs 
that are pressing upon us here, in oi'der to j)ay our respect to 
the memory of one so long an honored member of the Senate of the 
United States, but whom Cod has now removed from these scenes 
of earth; Avould that here and now, Avith his sacred ashes in our 
midst, and all the signals of our bereavement displayed befor(> us, 
Ave mitrht fore-ct the tasks and the anxieties, the strifes and conflicts, 
the exciting questions and startling changes of tins great time, and 
go back again to the feelings and the days of our early childhood. 
Oh! could Ave become this day for a little space as once Ave were — 
the unsophisticated and comparatively unsoiled children of those 
purer years, Avhilc habits Avere unformed and associations Avere un- 
fixed, and when our minds could perceive and our hearts could feel 
more keenly than now they may the great truths of home and 
parentage, of the soul and religion, of God and immortality, of Jesus 
and the resurrection. And Avhy should we not be so, for youth has 
its Avisdom as Avell as mature age, and the simplicity of childhood is 
often clearer th;Mi the worldly discretion of many years. 

Senators, Representatives, Friends : 1 do not come to make a g-reat 
plea this day before you. I do not come to analyze or eulogize that 
noble life which has just been concluded in your midst. 1 have no 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 



tlion^ht, of reviewing the public history of those events in vhicli he 
ha« bornc! Avith yourselves so conspicuous a part. But I come nillu-r 
as an humble son of that State in this great Union which gave us a 
like birth l)eneath its mountains, and inspired us with its pure and i)o- 
tent airs of liberty : I come rather because, in the providence of God, 
it has been allotted to me, aa his pastor and friend in Washington, to 
be near and to know hira well for many yeai-s : I come because invited, 
generously invited, by ray brother in the ministry of reconciliation, 
also of our native State, and Chaplain of the Senate of the United 
States, and because it has been told me that I should thus fulfil a 
desire of family and friends, both here and elsewhere, to apeak for 
him who once and so short a time ago could speak for others here 
with most impressive eloquence, but whose lips, alas I too mute, are 
silent on earth forever. 

I only come to tell the simple story of his going out from among 
us. It may be possible that the details I have to give will seem to 
some too delicate, too sacred to be rehearsed in public. But I have 
long felt that there existed an affectation among many of our public 
men, and a factitious modesty, which more conceals the truth of God 
than fosters any genuine good taste;. And now, under the sanction 
of the sacred passage I have read to you, and as another solemn and 
impressive instance of its reality and truthfulness, I propose to fol- 
low the developments of the experience of our departed friend fi om 
the commencement to the close of his last illness and the conclusion 
of his mortal carec.'r. 

Senator Foot, as chairman of the Senate committee to make 
arrangements for observing the anniversary of the birthday of Pres- 
ident Lincoln, on the 12th of February, 1866, in the hall of the 
House of Representatives, was actively engaged on that day in the 
performance of the duties assigned to him. The following night he 
suffered severely from an attack of internal inflammation, which was, 
however, arrested by the prompt attention of his physician, and he 
had in a day or two so far recovered as to visit the Senate chamber 
once more, where his last official work appears to have been the 
offering of the appropriate resolutions which closed the action of the 



Senate in reference to the solemn .ind imposing ceremouies of the 
I2tli of February. But meanwhile another more permanent diffi- 
culty appeared, and j:inndice, with general prostration of the physi- 
cal poweri? and mental dejection, was the consequence. It was not 
supposed by his physicians or friends that his case was at all dan- 
gerous or alarming, while, of course, anxiety was felt to see him 
fully recovered and able to resume his duties. But from the first 
he himself seems to have been impressed with the conviction that it 
would be his last sickness, and this conviction he freely and at all 
times expressed It is not the design of these brief fragments to 
give a complete history of the case as it went on from day to day 
to its iinal termination. I have a desire simply to record some of 
the incidents of the last illness of Senator Foot, which may serve to 
show the state of his mind on the subject of religious faith and ex- 
perience, and also his ideas and prospects of a future state. 1 only 
profess to give the substance of interviews at which I was present. 
This outline will be necessarily fragmentary ; but so far as it goes 
1 believe it to state truly, and often exactly in the language em- 
ployed, the incidents here narrated. 

Having called u])on him two or three times before he Mas confined 
to his bed, 1 saw him only in com])any with many other friends, who 
were going and coming at will, and the conversation .at these times 
was general, with no special reference to the subject of religion. 

But on Saturday evening, March 10, on calling at his rooms, at 
I\Irs. Carter's, on Capitol Hill, 1 found lie was then in bed, and that 
the disease had proved more difficult of treatment than was at first 
supposed. He had suft'ered at times intensely. After speaking with 
him for a few moments about the symptoms of his case, and the 
prospect of fully meeting them by the remedies employed, I rose to 
tak(; my leave of him, sajing, " jMy dear Senator, it is little 1 can do 
to help you or testify my gratitude and affection for you ; but there 
is one thing I can do and shall continue to do, and that is to j)ray 
for you." He immediately replied, "Yes, that is what I want you 
to do — what I want you to do now ;" then asking his wife, who 
stood at the foot of the bed, to close the door and come and join us 



DEATH OF HON. .SOLOMON FOOT 



in our Buppliciition, we for the first time so knelt tof^ether in that 
cliMHiber of nickness and poured out our desires to God. He f^cerncd 
very gratt^ful to have such a season of Avorship, and bade me "good- 
'hy" for the nigljt. The next time I culled, and indeed for two or 
time times after, he was so engaged with others arranging his affairs, 
or trying to obtain rest, that I did not speak with him. But on 
-Monday, March 19, I had an interview with him at his own r(;r|U(st. 
When we were alone, with the door shut, (he always insisted on the 
door being shut whenever religious subjects were to Ije considered, 
perhaps in deference to the command of Christ, "When thou hast 
entered into thy closet, shut to thy door,") lie commenced by saying 
that he had desired to see and converse with me; that he had re- 
ceived a very tender and affecting letter from his old friend and 
pastor, the Rev. Dr. Aiken, of Rutland, Vermont, on the subject of 
his spiritual welfare; and, continuing to speak wiih great solemnity 
and earnestness, frequently interrupted by weeping and sobbing, lie 
said : "I know it is but a poor time for a man to pay attention to 
the concerns of his soul when he is brought face to face with death. 
And I can say, that having always assented, intellectually, at least, 
to the truth of the Christian doctrines, I have oidy been too prone 
to postpone the practical question for so long a time to find at last, 
what I now have to lament, that life has been wasted in not having 
been devoted to Lfe's greatest end. This thought, indeed, has more 
deeply impressed me f.^r the last two years ; and at the commence- 
ment of this illness I was about proposing to assume a duty Ion" 
neglected, but which 1 have felt tliat I would take up in hope of re- 
ceiving some further light and strength from the only source of our 
help — that is, from our Maker and Cod. The duty 1 rcder to is that 
of family worshij) morning and evening, day by day. For years I 
have daily read the Rible in the presence of my wife ; but when I 
have seen her seeking her God in prayer so habitually and earnestly, 
I have felt that we ought to be united in it, and havf, purposed, if 
ever permitted to do so, that this privilege as well as duty shall no 
longer be neglected." 

Contiiming, he said, "I feel that I can never be thankful enouLdi 



10 PROCEEDINGS ON THE 



to God for giving me a pious ancestry. My father and mother were 
both devoted Christians, and I was fully instructed in early child- 
hood in the lessons of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have never 
doubted from that day to this the truth and reality of those teachings. 
I know and feel that I am a sinner. I believe that Christ made an 
atonement sufficient for all men, and that this atonement is the only 
ground of salvation for human beings. I am well convinced that 
none will ever be Siived by the works of righteousness which they 
have done. I have a strong desire to accept these terms of mercy, 
if only I might have an assurance that God will not now reject me 
after my long rejection of Him. That is the point to which I have 
come. Is there anything for me to do that I have not done, and 
Avill you point out the way, that I may go onward in it ?" In com- 
mencing a reply to this appeal, I adverted to the fact that I had 
long had a desire for such an interview as this, and expressed a 
thankful sense that it had been so graciously accorded at this time, 
and I was going on to state, by way of evidencing still further the 
tokens of Divine favor granted to himself and his friends in the long, 
upright, useful life he had been enabled to lead, and, judging by the 
standard of men, in the comparatively pure and noble example he 
had given both in private and public relations to his fellow-country- 
men, and especially the young men of this generation in our land, 
that this was now and ever would be a source of satisfaction to his 
family and friends, and to the people of his town and State — when 
misapprehending the object of my remarks, and supposing I was 
about to lead him to rely upon his past life and character for his 
future prospects, he quickly interposed to say, "All that will not 
answer me now. 1 must have a heart-work. I must have the foun- 
dation of the atonement of Christ alone to stand upon. I know 
there is no other uniwi given under heaven or among men whereby 
we must be saved." Then leaving the topic on which I was speak- 
ing, 1 tried l^ address myself to the one point which I discovered to 
be weighing upon his mind, and that was how he should be saved 
simply and solely u])on the plan of God's grace through faith in the 
Lord Jesus. I explained to him, by reference to my own experience, 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 11 



tlic nature of saving laitli, and the difficulties I found iu exercising 
it. 1 instructed Lim in the distinctions that exist between the full 
submission and surrender of the soul to God and those expectations 
which often attend this surrender — expectations of some vivid token 
or manifestation from God that we are accepted of Ilim, and expec- 
tations whicli are generally doomed to disappointment, simply be- 
cause they originate in a misapprehension of the gracious work of 
God's spirit in the soul, and are iu nowise necessary to the progress 
or perfection of that work, the first thing of all being the very sur- 
render itself, which cuts off all expectation; and all the work which 
man can do is summed up in those two familiar lines, so often sung 
by Christians : 

Hero, Lord, I p^ive myself away 

'Tis all that I can do. 

I then endeavored to turn his mind away from the thought of ex- 
pecting to the simple work of submitting and surrendering all into 
the hands of God, and distinctly made the proposal that he should 
now, in the spirit of a little child and with unquestioning confidence, 
commit all the interests of his entire being, for time and eternity, to 
God, and asked if he would join me in a prayer thus consecrating 
him forever to the Lord; to which he earnestly and promptly 
assented. After prayer I gave him some further counsel, designed 
to aid him in keeping to the solemn dedication of his soul to God 
which had just been made, and after an interview somewhat pro- 
tracted I took my leave of him for the time. 

I then visited him daily for several days, watching the develop- 
ment of what I cannot doubt was the gracious work of God's Holy 
Spirit begun and progressing in the soul ; and in those subsequent 
interviews I perceived that he was becoming more and more like a 
little child, his faith more simple, and consequently more strong. 
He said at length " that he thought he liad found the way." " I 
have," he continued, "been thinkingmuchof those two lines repeated 
the other day : 

'HiTi', Lord, I give myself away; 
"Tis all tliat 1 can do.' 



I begin to understand that this comprehends all, and I am beginning 
to lean alone on Jesus Christ as my Saviour and friend." I repeated 
to him several of the promises of the ]5iblc, on which liis mind seemed 
to fasten with evident satisfaction. On one occasion he commenced 
by saying, as I approached his bedside, " Well, my dear minister, 
here I still am, trying to do two things — trying to get well and try- 
ing to prepare to die." I told him " that though the issue was in 
God's hands, yet I had strong hopes this sickness would not be unto 
death ; that it seemed to me to be rather but another mercy of the 
Lord in disguise, to give him that time for meditation and pi'ayer 
which it would be impossible otherwise in the circumstances of his 
position to obtain, and that when the moral purposes of his Heavenly 
Father had been accomplished he would then be restored to his cus- 
tomary walks in life, with an experience of affliction sanctified to his 
highest good." But to this he made in substance his unvarying 
reply, " That he could not divest himself of the conviction that he 
would not recover." It seemed useless to try to shake his conclu- 
sion in this respect, and I left him on that day resolved not to renew 
the attempt. 

On Tliursday, the 22d of March, there was an evident progress in 
his spiritual experience, and I began now to think that his feet were 
surely planted upon the Hock, and his hope was being confirmed. 
On alluding to the effect of faith in Christ upon the mind, and 
quoting to him the words from the 5th of Romans, " Therefore being 
justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
Christ," he spoke out in answer, as if carrying forward the conclu- 
sion of the apostle, by repeating the following most suitable and 
affecting lines : 

"Jesus, the vision of thy face 

Hath overpowering charms ; 

I shall not fear death's cold embrace 

If Christ he in my arms. 

Then while ye hear my heartstrings break, 

How sweet my minutes roll, 

A mortal paleness on mj' cheek, 

And glory in my soul." 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 13 



Then, after prayer, in which he renewedly dedicated himself to 
God, I again took leave of him. After this my interviews for the re- 
mainder of that week were shorter, with less of incident than those 
that had preceded, bnt of the same general character. During this 
time I had been in conference with the Chaplain of the Senate, the 
Rev. Dr. Gray, who had called several times, in the interest and 
anxiety he felt for the spiritual welftxre of our friend, and for whom 
Senator Foot entertained the warmest regard. 

Thus he continued until Monday, March 26, when the symptoms 
of his case became more alarming. The day before (being Sunday) 
he had informed his friends it woidd be the last Sunday he should 
spend with them on earth. Nothing then appeared to indicate a 
change for the worse, and his friends received the suggestion as but 
another proof of the mental depression so natural to disease of this 
specific type. On this day, therefore, the physicians became alarmed, 
and at one time it was thought he might not siirvive even a few hours. 
But, rallying again, the feeble powers of nature made a stand, and 
in the evening he seemed somewhat revived. I did not see him 
during the day. But on Tuesday morning, March 27, I repaired 
early to his chamber, arriving about 9 o'clock, and, with a short time 
of absence, remaining until about the hour of 6 o'clock in the evening. 
This was the last day with him on earth. As if forewarned of his 
approaching end, he spent the whole day in receiving and parting 
with his friends, and performing his last acts of religious devotion. 
For several hours he talked almost incessantly, until he seemed to 
have finislied his work and was ready to depart. As I approached 
him in the morning there were none present at the moment but mem- 
bers of the family, and I proposed we should have a season of prayer. 
" Oh, yes," he immediately exclaimed, •♦ that is what I want — close 
the door — shut it tight — and come then and kneel down and pray 
here. Allkneel down ; all pray — pray that my faith may be strength- 
ened ; that my heart may be renewed ; that my sins may be forgiven 
through that one atonement of Jesus Christ ; that my views of it may 
be clear; that I may see in it a sufficiency for the sins of the whole 
world, and particularly for my sins, which have been so many and 



14 PROCEEDINGS ON THE 



so aggravated during a long life, that they may all be cleansed away 
and remembered no more!" 

Then after prayer he repeated again, at our request, the lines 
already quoted, and with great emphasis and appreciation. It was 
now 10 o'clock, and the tidings that he was sinking brought many 
of his friends to his bedside, among whom was the Secretary of State, 
the Secretary of War, several of the senators and others of the Sen- 
ate, the members of the Vermont delegation and others of the House 
of Representatives, and many other persons in private life. About 
12 o'clock Dr. Baxter, one of his physicians, came in and took hiui 
by the hand with an emotion which he could not conceal from the 
quick notice of the dying statesman. As if clearly reading the 
thoughts of his friend, while sorrow was so deeply depicted on his 
countenance, he immediately began to address him in language of the 
most touching confidence and gratitude, and recalled many an affect- 
ing reminiscence of his past intercourse with the members of his 
family, especially with his father and himself. On my again ap- 
proaching him he commenced by recalling the year and place 
of my birth, and saying that at that time and in that place he 
was a youth in his academic studies preparing for a college 
course. When the friend at whose house he had been for 
years during his stay in Washington came into his chamber 
he immediately called her by name, recounted her care for him, 
and loaded her with the most affecting assurances of thankful- 
ness. 

A few moments after, at the request of a friend, and when the 
numbers present had somewhat diminished, he repeated for the third 
time, and with his hands so placed together as if to emphasize and 
impress them, the striking and impressive verses already quoted, and 
then said, " Sing them ; I like to hear the voice of sacred singing ; it 
bears me up as on the air of heaven." And to a suggestion that he 
might be wearied by so many visits, so much excitement and talking, 
be said, " No, it does not hurt me ; I rather desire it ; I am borne up 
as on angels' wings ; it is no effort for me to converse or hear you 
speaking." Ou the renewal of his wish to hear the singing we were 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 15 



obliged to change the words he had repeated for that beautiful and 
now familiar hymn — 

" Just as I am — witliout one plea." 

As we sang this he lay as if entranced by it, and suddenly per- 
ceiving all present in tears, and liis Avife sobbing, her head bowed 
upon his hand in the grief of her affection, he said, looking around on 
the circle, " Why these tears'? There is no occasion for weeping. 
This is heaven begun below ! I am only going home a little sooner, 
that is all," At the conclusion of the hymn, as if repeating the 
sentiment of the last stanza, he said, " I do trust in my Saviour." 

A few moments aftcsr, when his brother, Dr. Foot, but two years 
younger than himself, who had arrived a few days before from his 
home in Canada, and to whom at their first meeting he had exj)ressed 
the same feeling that he should not recover, now came toward him, 
but, filled with emotion, immediately turned away to conceal it, he 
said to me in an under tone, " If God has given it to me to leave 
such a name as my family will not be ashamed to remember, it is 
not a cause of pride or boasting, but of gratitude to Ilim only who 
doeth all things well ; and if when I am gone they shall sometimes 
think of me, and mention me as belonging to them, it will prove that 
I have at least studied not to give them pain." 

To Mrs. Browning, a trusted friend in the house, he said : " I am 
glad to see you this morning ; these earthly partings are severe, but 
there are no tears, no sorrows in heaven. There we shall meet, I 
trust, ere long." 

To Mrs. Woodbridge, Mr. DeWitt Clarke, the lion. Messrs. Mor- 
rill and Baxter, and several others in humbler life, from Vermont, 
who came during the day to inquire after his condition, and receive 
his dying testimony, he addressed the most tender and affecting 
words. 

To his colleague. Senator Poland, who had just assumed in the 
Senate the seat of the himented Collamer, and who, boarding in the 
same house, and having a room almost adjacent to his chamber, was 
several times by his bedside during the day, with a concern speak- 



ing ill his face for the anticipated loss of his dying friend which 
none couhl fail to read, he committed in a special manner the great 
trusts of their position in the Senate, saying : "I have finished 
my work as a representative from Vermont in the councils of the 
nation, and now, my dear colleague, it will be for you and my suc- 
cessor in office! faithfully to represent the people of our State and 
worthily to discharge the high responsibility they have thus im- 
posed upon you.. I doubt not you will do this to the satisfaction 
of the people not only in our State, but throughout the country." 

AVhen Senator Doolittle approached his bedside, he immediately 
stretched out his hand and said : " Dear brother, you have always 
been kind to me — a dear, good brother senator; I can never reward 
you, but you know where your reward lies. You have long been a 
professor of the religion of the Gospel. You know what it is to 
enjoy its consolations in sickness and in health. The mercy of God 
has been very great to me in this sickness. I have so many kind 
friends, so many angelic ministers all around me. It seems as 
though a company of angels were all about me, and hovering over 
me, to bear up a sinking spirit from its mortality." Then, after a 
pause, as if reviewing his past life and endeavoring to recall its 
conflicts, he said; "I have been trying to call to mind if there 
was a human being on earth to whom I have intentionally done 
wrong or injustice. If there is, I pray God to forgive me." And 
on another occasion during the day he said, " If I have an enemy in 
the world, I thank God I do not know it." 

When Secretary Stanton entered the room, some time about mid- 
day, he seemed very much gratified, and said: "You are kind to 
visit me, Mr. Stanton. I am here yet, living and dying. I have no 
acute pain, no severe distress ; but a general sinking of the system, 
the constitution breaking up. But I am surrounded by so many 
kind friends, they seem to bear me up as on angels' wings." The 
Secretary of War then said to him, " The President had intended 
to come with me to see you, but has been prevented by pressure of 
business. If it is possible, however, to visit you to-day, he will do 
so ; but he has delegated me to express to you his kind regards 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 17 



and sjmpatliics." Not bearing the words distinctly, some one 
repeated them, to ■whieli lie replied : "Oh, yes ; if he comes I would 
be })leased to see him. It is twenty three years ago since we first 
met. If the President comes I shall be glad to see him. The Secre- 
tary always anticipates everything; he is one of the best men I ever 
knew ; this world cannot reward him, but there is a God in heaven 
who can do so, and I am sure he will not lose that reward. There 
is a God on high who will not fail to reward him." Presently he 
added, " I have a good deal of j)hysical strength left yet, so that I 
might continue perhaps a week, but on that point I do not specu- 
late." On the Secretary remarking that " Wc are all in God's 
hands," he responded : " Oh, yes ; and He is dealing with me in 
great mercy. The Lord reigns ; let the earth rejoice ! And well 
may God reigu, and well may the earth rejoice that he does reign. 
That there is a God who reigns over all, there can be no manner of 
doubt. We do not come into this world by chance ; wc are not 
creatures of accident. We have been born under a superintending 
Providence, and are candidates for a certain immortality." Then 
pausing again, as if contemplating his approaching departure, be 
said : " When I leave this place, I wish no parade, no ostentatious 
demonstrations to be made; only the ordinary proceedings which 
custom and propriety impose ; and thus I desire to be borne to my 
friends and home in Rutland, Vermont, and laid among the people 
who have been so faithful to mc — more faithful, I fear, than I have 
ever been to them. Let me be sent home to the people who have 
done so much for mc ; they will prepare everything, and there by 
them let me be buried." Some one remarked : " And there is your 
minister, too." " Yes," he replied, with great warmth of feeling, 
" they arc both there ; the one a venerable man of God, to whom I 
have long listened." 

Presently Mr. Bassett, the doorkeeper of the Senate, came 
in, and was greeted in the same ardent and earnest manner by 
the dying senator. He recalled his first meeting with him 
fifteen years ago, and testified to his uniform kindness, and said, 
" I cannot reward him, but God will do it ; and that will be 



2 V 




a far better, liighor, more glorious reward tbau man can ever 
bestow." 

Some one again inquiring if be did not feel great exbaustion and 
bodily distress, he replied, "Not much distress; tbis I consider one 
of my comfortable days." Then turning he saw Mrs. Foot weeping 
at the foot of the bed, with Mrs. Browning at her side. Tbis seemed 
to pain him most deeply, and he said, pointing to his wife, " There 
is my great grief, my beloved wife — to part from her is like tearing 
the silver cord asunder." On being approached by these ladies, 
Mrs. Browning remarked " that they had been jiermitted to enjoy 
each other's society long on earth, and they indulged the hope that 
this society would be resumed again in heaven." 

"Oh, yes," he answered, "we have been afixmilylongheld together, 
and memory is full of tender visions of the past. God grant they 
may be renewed in another and better world !" 

At this time Senator Fessenden approached him, to whom he 
eagerly stretched out his hand and said, "My dear friend Fessenden, 
the man by whose side I have sat so long, whom I have regarded 
as the model of a statesman and parliamentary leader, on whom I 
have leaned, and to whom I have looked more than to any other 
living man for guidance and direction in public affairs, the grief I 
feel is that the strong tie which has so long bound us together must 
now be severed. But, my dear Fessenden, if there is memory after 
death, that memory will be active, and I shall call to mind the whole 
of our intercourse on earth." The senator thus addressed, too much 
affected to reply in words, stooped over and kissed the brow of his 
dying friend, and turned away in silence. Toward evening, when 
it was intimated that the same senator had returned to inquire after 
him, and he was asked if he desired to see him, his reply was 
prompt — "Always," "always." With hands clasped they remained 
for some time, the enfeebled senator repeating his greateful sense of 
the friendship so long existing between them, and being in turn 
assured of its reciprocal estimation by his friend. Some one observ- 
ing that though parted for a time while on earth, they might have 
hope of a reunion in the spirit world hereafter : " Oh, yes," he ex- 



claiincfl, with great orapliasis, "I believe in God and tlic life; eternal." 
And finally, in a tone of affecting tenderness, he bade his friend 
'•farewell," saying " CJood-by, and may God bless you forever- 
more." 

Afterwards Senator Grimes approachcMl him, to whom he said, 
"Ah, my dear friend Grimes, have yon come to see me? I have 
been through a terrible ordeal here the last six weeks." Then 
noticing that all were deeply affected, he added, "Do not cease to 
talk; these things cannot alarm me." Then taking the senator by 
the hand, he said, " Yes, I know the man, a man about whom there 
is no deceit ; Avith whom neither in private nor in public was there a 
deceitful thought or a deceitful word." ITis friend then remarked 
that he must have suffered very severely ; he replied, "I have sup- 
posed that the frailty of human nature could not endure it so long; 
and then recurring evidently to scenes of the past in which he had 
mingled with hi.s friend, and as if soliloquizing, he added, "He was 
one of the first and last and best of my associates, and there was no 
mistake about him." Then turning to the senator, he said, as the 
latter was about to leave him, "You are not going out of the city ?" 
On being answered in the negative, they exchanged "forewells," 
and were parted forever upon earth. 

To another senator, Mr. Brown, who came in soon after, he said, 
"I am glad to see you, my dear associate; you know what it is to 
be a disciple of Christ. I hope we shall meet in heaven. This 
world is a poor place for saint or sinner to dwell in forever. Its 
scenes are passing away; its fashion perishes. There is nothing 
steadfast, nothing stable here " And thus he continued for some 
time, speaking to one and another, sending last tokens of love to 
absent kindred and friends, and doing his last work on earth. 

At about half past two o'clock, all being prepared, by his desire 
and with the consent of his physician, who Avas indefatigable in at- 
tending to every wish, in the presence of his family and a few Chris- 
tian li-iends, he signified his public profession of faith in Christ by 
receiving^ the symbols of the Lord's Supper, and joining, for the 
first and last time on earth, in that communion which all God's 



cliildrou hope to renew in heaven. On receiving the bread into his 
mouth, he uttered in a slow but sohnnn and reverential manner 
these words: "This bread is the symbol of the broken body (if 
Christ Jesus, through whom alone I hope for the mercy of God and 
the gift of eternal life." This most affecting and solemn scene, ouly 
to be appreciated and imderstood by those who have known experi- 
mentally the life which it outwardly sets forth, was concluded by 
singing the following lines, during which his soul seemed borne 
away, indeed, as on angels' wings : 

"How firm a fouudatiou, yi; saiuts of the Lord, 
Is laid tor your faith in His excellent word ! 
What ruore could he say than to you he hath said, 
You who unto Jesus for refuge have fled — 
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, 
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes; 
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, 
I'll never, no, never! no, never forsake !" 

After this he seemed to be satisfied, and ouly awaited the ap- 
pointed hour of departure. 

To Mr. Seward, Secretary of State, who visited him in the after 
part of the day, he addressed similar words of tenderness, and ex- 
changed with him the affectionate regards of their former friendli- 
ness. 

Between four and five o'clock a striking scene occurred. Senator 
Foster, now the President pro tempore of the Senate, and in that 
office one of Senator Foot's successors, came in to see him. Their 
interview was peculiarly affecting. The dying man, stretching out 
his hand to Mr. Foster, drew him to his side, and then addressed 
him substantially as follows : "j\Iy dear friend, we have been sitting 
in the Senate for years together. I have had for you the warmest 
regard — confidence in your judgment, respect for your talents, and 
a personal attachment on which no shadow of iinkindness has ever 
rested. I have always considered you as a pattern of a Christian 
statesman and a Christian gentleman." On being assured that his 
sentiments were fully reciprocated, and that all his associates enter- 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 21 



tiiinerl toward liirn a similar feeling, he answered, that for whatever 
of kindness they had felt for him he Avas sincerely grateful ; but, 
said he, " I am aware of my imperfections. I may have given them 
offence — at times I must have done so. I know I have been a sin- 
ner, and it is only of late that I have been able to hope in the par- 
doning mercy of God, and to feel my title made sure to that future 
inheritance which you, my dear friend, have been so long antici- 
pating." After some further similar convesration, Senator Foster, 
supposing he might be wearied, was about to take leave of him, and 
then, while still their hands Avere clasped together, as if thinking of 
the sainted dead who had gone before, and looking for the last time 
into the face of a man who seemed destined so soon to join them, he 
said : " I must bid you farewell, in hope that Ave may meet again in 
heaven;" and stooping down he, too, left a silent, parting kiss on 
the broAV of his dying friend. As he turned away, with melting 
heart and tearful eye, the last Avords which fell upon his ear from 
that couch of mortal Aveakness were, "Oh, yes; Ave shall meet 
again in heaven, and the time will not be long. Farewell, dear 
friend. God bless you OA^ermore !" The impressions borne away 
from that chamber of death, and so strikingly expressed by Senator 
Foster to the afflicted family as he took his departure, Avere indeed 
such as to rob death of all his terrors, and to cause the living to 
have been willing to exchange places if they might also change 
prospects Avith the dying statesman. 

But his hours Avere rapidly running out, and he seemed only too 
eager for their conclusion. The day set ; the night Avore on. The 
morning came again, and all this while he lay peacefully, attended 
by gentle women, his kindred, whom he described repeatedly as 
ministering angels sent to soothe and comfort him, and make light 
his pathway to the tomb. At about seven o'clock on the morning 
of Wednesday, the 28th of March, it was evident he could not much 
longer surviA-e. Then, as if admonished by some invisible attendant 
that his moments were few, he signified his desire to see once more 
the light of the .sun in heaven, and the Capitol, on which it shone, 
and where he had so long served the people of his State and country. 



and where his associates would soon again assemble. They lifted 
him up, but his (syes were already dim. He sank back upon his 
pillow. Seeing his time was at hand, the words of the 23d Psalm 
wer(i then read, and a solemn prayer Avent up from the lips of 
one, the dearest to him on earth, lie called her to his side, 
and folded her in his arms for a moment; then, as his breath- 
ing became choked, he said, " What, can this be death 1 Is it 
come already V Then, lying a few moments longer, with eyes 
all lull of celestial radiance, he lifted his hands and looked up, 
exclaiming : " I see it ! I see it I The gates are wide open ! 
beautii'ul ! beautiful !" and without a movement or pang imme- 
diately expired. 

I have no apology to offer for dwelling so long on the closing 
scenes of one whom I loved as a father, and to whom for years past 
1 have learned to look for a father's counsels in many of my earthly 
affairs. Alas, how many will miss him in all the ranks and condi- 
tions of society ! How will he be lamented by a bereaved and sor- 
rowing people ! They shall tell to whom it more appropriately be- 
longs. Others there are who will make the record of his history, 
and depict the attributes of his private character, and trace the direc- 
tion of his public life ; others there are who will show his position 
in the mighty passage of the nation through one of its most eventful 
and momentous periods; who will gather the garlands for his brow, 
and erect a monument to his memory. It is ours to derive from the 
solemn dispensation of I*rovidcuce, wliieh has thus removed him 
from our midst, the practical lessons it is so pre-eminently designed 
to enforce upon us. 

1. First we see the difference between Pagan and Chi-istian light. 
The sentiments of the ancients and of heathen sages now are and 
were exceedingly uncertain, clouded, and obscure in respect to a 
future state, and the conditions of happiness therein. Their hopes, 
though often earnest, were and must be consequently far from having 
a good and firm foundation on which to rest. But in the clearer light 
of the Christian revelation all is consistent, significant, and satisfac- 
tory. The deepest cravings of our nature are here met, and the 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 23 



soul rests upon the word and promise of God as upon the basis of 
an everlasting rock. 

2. i\gaiu we see the nature and necessity of making preparation 
for death and a future state. It is to believe in God and in the 
record which He has given of His Son, that if thou shalt confess 
with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that 
God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. And this 
is the work of God, that ye believe in him whom He hath sent: and 
then it is added in another place, " Show me thy faith without thy 
works, and I will show thee my faith by my works ; for faith with- 
out works is dead, being alone." Then since by nature we are alien 
from God, having rebelled against Him, doth not reason teach, as well 
as revelation declare, what is now so vitally enforced by our own ex- 
perience even under human government and in this imperfect earthly 
state of society, that there must be repentance and regeneration of 
heart and reformation of life in order to the restoration of those who 
have so rebelled and so endeavored to destroy the government and 
disintegrate society itself? We cannot fail to see the reasonableness 
and the imperative motive of all this under the Divine government, 
however it may be questioned in those political systems which have 
been erected by the hands of men. 

3. We may see also from the example before us the inheritance of 
a pious ancestry. They who consider the worth of things in their 
proper light will readily assent to this great truth, that there is a 
hereditariness of influence descending from generation to generation, 
whicli renders the character of our ancestry a matter of the deepest 
moment and concern to all their posterity. And on this point permit 
me to introduce the testimony of an old friend and college class-mate 
of the departed senator, which has just now been kindly furnished : 

"When Solomon Foot was a member of college, he was living 
witli a widowed mother, who had removed to Middlebury to give 
her son the peculiar literary and religious advantages that the place 
afforded. It was understood in the class that the father of Mr. Foot, 
a physician, I think, by profession, had been a man of very decided 
religious character ; and this was judged to be a favorable circum- 



8tance by the religious ruombcrs, when (^peculating on the probabili- 
ties of the son's conversion. The father was judged ta man who must 
have dci'ived great consolation, in his early sepai'ation from his family 
by death, from a scripture passage like this : ' Leave thy fatherless 
children ; I will preserve them alive, and let thy Avidows trust in me.' 
" But the widowed mother of Mr. Foot is particularly remembered 
by her j)revailing anxiety for his conversion and usefulness. I 
scarcely can recollect an interview that I had with that excellent 
lady, during my four years' residence at Middlebury, in which this 
was not the burden of her conversation. I have often thought that 
the mother of Augustine never felt more anxiety and persevering 
desire for her son's conversion than did the mother of Solomon i'oot 
lor his conversion." 

4. We may see, too, the value of early religious training, and the 
benefit of an h.abitual observance of the ordinances of God's house. 
I have had occasion to observe many persons in the closing scenes 
of life, and 1 have never tound one who had enjoyed such training 
and observed such habits that did not exhibit the fruit of it in the 
liiiiii hour. Nor did I ever see one who had gone through life M'itli- 
out them that did not manifest a corresponding deficiency in senti- 
ment, opinion, and experience, when the last trial came upon them. 
This result must necessarily follow; and that human being who has 
come into and gone out of this life without such a training and such 
a habit deserves the most profound commiseration. 

5. We may see, again, the consistency and dignity of a Christian 
life and the satisfaction of a Christian hope. .Such a life bears in it 
a self-demonstrating power; such a hoj)e is evidence of its own price- 
less, inestimable nature. Those who have attained them in early 
years, and worn them well to a good old age, show by their example 
as well as their profession how true and how i-eal is the excellency 
they possess. And those who have to regret their long neglect of or 
indifference to .--uch a life and such a hope still bear witness to the 
i comparable valu(! and desirableness of both. They are confirmed 
by a sense botli of their loss and of their gain, both now and for 
evermore. 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 25 



6. We sec once more the beauty and glory of a Christian death 
and the abounding t'aithfuhiess of a covenant-keeping God. What 
clearness, calmness, composure, moral sublimity, in the chamber where 
a child of (Jod is dying! How surely, tenderly, punctually is the 
Almighty power and grace vouchsafed to make "all that bed in 
peace," and to fill the dying scene with memorials the most living 
and the most lasting and the most affecting of all human experience 
on earth ! And it is God's power and verity dis^^layed when lie 
says, " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee !" Oh, who in view 
of all this would not strive to lead this life, that our departure from 
it may be joyful and triumphant ? And who would not exclaim with 
one of old and with a clearer motive, " Let me die the death of the 
righteous, and let my last end be like his ?" 

At the conclusion of Rev. Dr. Sunderland's eloquent discourse, 
during the delivery of which the immense audience was sensibly 
moved, Rev. Dr. Boynton, chaplain of the House of Representatives, 
offered a fervent prayer and pronounced the benediction. 



The order of procession was then announced by Senator Doolittle, 
chairman of the committee of arrangements, as follows : 
Chaplains of Congress for the occasion. 
The I'hysicians who attended the Deceased. 



:\[r 


Doolittle, 




^ r 

[ Ciiiuniittcf of J 
' Arraugeiiifiits. 


JNIr. Hendricks, 


Mr 
Mr. 


Anthony, 
Howard, 




Mr. Sherman, 
Mr. ]hickalew. 


Mr. 


Fessenden 




1 r 

1 


Mr. Guthrie, 


Mr. 


Harris, 




} Pall-beun-rs. < 


Mr. Lane, of Indiana, 


Mr. 


Johnson, 




J 1 

THE CORPt^E. 


Mr. Sumner. 




The Y 


imily 


and Friends of t 


;e Deceased. 



The Senator and Representatives from the State of Vermont, as 
Mourners. 



2G 



PROCEEDINGS ON THE 



Citizens of the State of Vcnuont. 

The Sergcant-at-arms of the Senate of the United States. 

The members of the Senate, preceded by the President of the 

Senate pro Icm. and Secretary of the Senate. 

The Acting Sergeant-at-arms of the House of Representatives. 

The members of tlie House of Ilcpresentatives, preceded 

by its Speaker and Clerk. 

The President of the United States. 

The Heads of Departments. 

The Diplomatic Corps. 

Judges of the United States. 

Officers of the Executive Departments. 

Officers of the Army and Navy. 

The Mayor of Washington. 

Citizens and Strangers. 

The procession moved through the rotundo of the Capitol, out of 
the east door, and around the eastern grounds down to the depot of 
the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. The next morning the corpse was 
taken to Rutland, Vermont, escorted by Senators Poland, of Ver- 
mont; Doolittle, of Wisconsin; Ramsey, of Minnesota, and Riddle, 
of Delaware, with the family and personal friends of the deceased ; 
atteiided by A. P. Gorman, Deputy Sergeant-at-arms of the Senate. 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 27 



PROCEEDINGS AT RUTLAND, VERMONT. 



Rejnarks of RJcssrs. PoLAXD and DoOLITTLE. 

On the arrival of the remains of Mr. Foot at Ruthind, Vermont, 
they were temporarily deposited in the United States conrt-house, 
which is in itself a monument to his memory, for it was mainly 
through his exertions that appropriations were passed for its erection, 
and in it he deposited his valuable law library. 

In transferring the care of the remains from the senatorial com- 
mittee to the committee of arrangements of the State of Vermont, 
Mr. Poland said : 

Mr. Chairman and Friends : We come to you in the perform- 
ance of a sad and melancholy duty. I come nominally as the chair- 
man of a committee of the Senate of the United States, appointed 
to attend the remains of our deceased brother and your townsman 
and friend, the Hon. Solomon Foot, to his h^tate and home. But the 
real character in which I come is that of one of his mourners, and I 
believe I can most truly say that aside from those closely co)inected 
to him by the ties of kindred, theie is no one who more sincerely 
mourns his loss, or feels more deeply the bereavement caused by 
his death, than I do. The feeling of grief is too deep and personal 
to allow me to properly express myself upon this occasion, and I 
have therefore requested one of my colleagues of the committee, 
Senator Doolittle, of Wisconsin, to act as the organ of the committee 
in communicatiug our sad message to you. 

Mr. DooLiTTLK said : 

ilR. Chairman and Gentlkmen of the Committee: As my 

colleague upon the committee has truly said, we have come upon a 
sad errand. We have been commissioned by the Senate of the United 
States to bear home to Vermont all that is mortal of Solomon Foot. 
These remains, this precious dust, will now pass from our charge, 
as a committee of the Senate, to you, as representing the people of 




liis native State. It is no time or place for eulogy. Our hearts 
are too full for that. A great sorrow has fallen upon the Senate, 
and upon the whole country, as well as upon Vermont. That he 
was distinguished as a statesman and senator all the world knows ; 
but what 1 desire to say, and what my heart most prompts mc to say, 
is, not that he was distinguished, honored, and respected, but that he 
was beloved by every member of the Senate, of every political party. 
All were his personal friends. Enemies he had none. The oldest 
member of the body in continuous service, he was revered as the 
father of the Senate. Often called upon to be its presiding officer, 
and always watchful of its honor, he did more than any other to 
preserve its dignity and decorum. But he has left the Senate. His 
j)lace we canuot fill. His like we may not look upon. Gentlemen, 
here in that cotHn is his lifeless body. We commit it to your charge. 
Our mission in behalf of the Senate is fulfilled ; our sad but sacred 
office performed; our woi-k done. We are now ready to return. But 
I cannot take leave of you without saying that I am here in another 
character, and, as the bearer of another message from him, as a dying 
man, to you, the people of Rutland and Vermont. Bear in mind 
that for more than eight years we had been in constant daily political 
and friendly intercourse, a part of the time lodging under the same 
roof, and most of the time sitting at the same table. He was to me 
like a father or an elder brother. In these intimate relations I came 
to know him well, and to love him more. But I did not know how 
much I loved him, until standing at his bedside, the dying man 
stretched out his hand, and clasping mine in his, said : " Dear brother, 
you have always been kind to me — a dear, good brother senator. I 
can never reward you; but you know where your reward lies." 
I could not speak. But he continued in a clear and distinct voice, 
Avhih' his face beamed with a heavenly light, to speak of the religion 
of the Gospel, and of its consolations in sickness and in health. 
Among oth(;r things, I remember he said: "The mercy of God has 
been very great to me in this sickness. 1 have so many kind friends ; 
like so many angelic ministers all around me. It seems as though 
a company of angle.s were all about me, to bear up my sinking 



spirit." Then, after a pause, he said, "I have been trying to recall 
if there is any human being upon earth whom I have intentionally 
wronged or injured. I do not now remember any ; but if there be 
any 1 pray that God will forgive me." I will not attempt to tell 
you all he said. Before I left the room, however, he said, in the 
same clear voice, to another: ''The Lord reigns; let the earth 
rejoice! It is well that he does reign; and the people have reason 
to rejoice that he does reign. Yes, God reigns over all; there can 
be no doubt of that. We do not come into this world by mere 
chance ; we are not creatures of accident. We are born to an eternal 
life." Ilere he paused a few moments, and then uttered that dying- 
message, which 1 now bear to you. "When I leave this chamber," 
said he, "I wish no parade, no ostentatious demonstrations to be 
made; only the ordinary proceedings which custom and propriety 
impose; I desire to be borne to my friends and home in Rutland, 
Vermont — a people Avho have always been faithful to me — more 
ftiithful to me than I have been to them, I fear. They have done 
so much for me. I have no house there, but they will provide every- 
thing needful, and there, by them, among that ])co])le, let me be 
buried." This is the message which I bring to you from your dying 
friend. I was not present when he breathed his last; but from the 
account which I received immediately after from those who were 
present, his consciousness remained clear to the last, and his utter- 
ance distinct almost to the very last breath. In his last words, dis- 
tinctly uttered, he left another message, which speaks not only to 
you and to me, but to all men, and for all time. In all history, I 
do not remember to have read of a dying Christian whose last words 
were more touching, more heavenly, and more triumphant over death 
and the grave. Seeing his time was at hand, the words of the twenty- 
third Psalm were then repeated to him by his wife. He called her 
to his side, folded his arms around her for a moment ; then, as his 
breathing became more choked, he said: "What! Can this be 
death ? So easy 1 Is it come already?" In a few moments after, 
with a face lighted up, as with a soul just entering into Paradise, he 
joyfully exclaimed : " I see it ! I see it ! The gates are wide open ! 



Beautiful ! Beautiful !" And in a very few moments after uttering 
these words lie expired. As a statesman and senator we honor him ; 
as a man of noble character, we cherish his memory ; as a true and 
faithful friend, we love him; as a dying Christian, what a glorious 
example has he left to all mankind ! 



Colonel W. T, Nichols, on behalf of the Committee of Arrange- 
ments, replied : Mr. Chairman and Senators : The p(;ople of Ver- 
mont, through a committee of the people of this town, accept the 
completion of the trust committed to your charge by the Senate of 
the United States, and receive at your hands the mortal remains of 
your distinguished colleague, and their honored and faithful repre- 
sentative. We .receive what Avas mortal of our renowned and honored 
senator, our worthy citizen, our valued friend, as a sacred trust com- 
mitted to our Keeping. We receive the trust in sorrow, and will 
guard it tenderly. Your recital of the dying moments of the Hon. 
Solomon Foot fills our hearts too full for utterance in words. We 
mourn, and the people of Vermont are mourning to-day, at the loss 
of one of our greatest and best men. You have been pleased to 
allude to the high and honorable position occupied while living by 
him whose shrouded form lies before us. It is not fitting for me, at 
this hour and in this presence, to pronounce words of eulogy upon 
the character and public career of him who held for long years to 
this community the tenderer, the nearer and dearer relation than that 
of a trusted and distinguished representative in the highest branch 
of the national councils — the relation of a true and tried friend to the 
whole people ; but in justice to his memory it may be said that the 
people of tiie State, which he honored by his services and his blame- 
less life, were not indifferent observers, nor even unmindful that his 
usefulness, his name and fame, were national in extent; and, sir, 
while the honor of achieving such renown and influence was all his 
own, his State appropriated to itself an honest and unbounded pride 
in such a senator, and claimed his name and tame for Vermont. You 
have brought his remains from the halls of ttie American Senate 
chamber to the quiet retreat of his chosen home among the moun- 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 31 



tains of his native State, and communicated to us his dying message 
of gratitude to the people of his State and his home. We thank 
you, and througli you tender our thanks and appreciation to the 
Senate who committed this trust to you. We assure you that if his 
colleagues had learned to love and to honor him in his older and riper 
years, the people Avho had known him earliest and longest hon- 
ored and loved him best. And, sir, had there been any higher honor 
than a seat in that grand Areopagus of the American people — the 
Senate — the people of Vermont would have placed him in that higher 
position had it been in their power to do so. We take his mortal re- 
mains from your hands, and in the spot of his own choosing shall 
commit them to the earth — "dust to dust, and ashes to ashes ;" but 
while it will be tenderly, sacredly done, it will be done sorrowfully, 
mournfully, tearfully. That done, we will chisel the granite shaft, 
solid, jilain, and simple, like his life and character, and strew his 
grave with the laurel and the cypress ; but in the respect and grati- 
tude of the people of his home, a monument is already raised to his 
memory more enduring than the granite. 



ADDRESSES 



DEATH or HON. SOLOMON FOOT, 



IX THE SEMATE OF THE UNITED >STATES, 
THURSDAY, APRIL 12, 18G6. 



Address of ]\Ir. Poland, of Vermont. 
Mr. President: I ollcr tli(> Ibllowiiig resolutions: 

Resolved, That the Secretary of the Senate be directed to infbriii 
the House of Uepreseutativ(;t^ that the Senate, having listened to 
eulogies upon the character and puhlic services of the lion. Solomoat 
Foot, a senator from the State of Vermont, lately deceased, out of 
respect to his memory, have voted to adjourn. 

Mr. President, two weeks ago tliis day it was my 
painful duty to announee to the KSenate the death of 
my distinguished and beloved colleague, the Hon. Solo- 
mon Foot. The little time that elapsed between his 
decease and the funeral ceremoni(>s here, and the absence 
of one of my colleagues of the House of Kepre- 
sentatives, who was Mr. Foot's immediate representa- 
tive, were deemed sutheient reasons for j^ostponing tlie 
customary obituary tributes to some future day. In 
accordance with the notice then given, I now ask that 
the Senate for a short time lay aside its ordinary busi- 
ness, and allow me and others the melancholy satishic- 



3 F 



tioii of expressing our appreciation ol" the cluiracter, 
services, and virtues of our departed associate and 
friend. The last occasion of this kind in this chamlier 
was early in the present session, in memory of my 
lamented ])redecessor. Judge Collamcr. No one of us 
will ever forget the eloquent and loving words of Mr. 
Foot on that occasion in dwelling upon the memory of 
his long-time friend and colleagne. As we looked at 
his robust and majestic form, and listened to his deep, 
rich voice and solemn, weighty words, how little we 
thought that in so short a time he, too, would have 
l)ecome only an object of memory and a subject of 
eulogy. Who next in this body of representatives of 
States shall be called from this high place to the unseen 
world ? No one of us can tell. How solemnly are we 
reminded that death comes as a thief in the night, and 
how wisely arc we cautioned, "Be ye also ready." 

Mr. Foot was born in Cornwall, Addison county, 
Vermont, on the 19th day of November, 1802. I have 
not been able to learn anything in relation to his early 
life, but I infer that his family condition was such as to 
make all attainment and advancement .in life depend 
upon his own efforts and labors. I infer this from the 
liict that he graduated from IMiddlebury college about 
1826 or 1827, and somewhat later in life than is usual 
with young men where the means of education arc 
provided by others." After his graduation he spent 
some time in teaching, and at the same time studying 
law. After his admission to the bar he commenced 



practice in the town of RutlaiK], Vermont, and tliat 
continued to he bis place of residence np to the time 
of his death. 

lie was elected a representative from the town of 
Rutland to the Vermont house of representatives in 
1833, 1836, 1837, and 1838, and again in the year 1847, 
and during the last three of those years was speaker of 
the house. He was a member of the State constitu- 
tional convention in 183G, which made the im[)()rtant 
alteration in our State constitution of cxcbanmnsf the 
old legislative council for a State senate. He also held 
the office of prosecuting attorney for Rutland county 
from 1836 to 1842. In 1842 Mr. Foot was elected to 
the lower house of Congress, and re-elected in 1844, 
but declined further election. In 1850 he was elected 
to the Senate of the United States, re-elected in 1856, 
and again in 1862, and at the time of his death was the 
oldest memljcr in continuous service in this hod}'. 

Mr. Foot very soon attained a highly respectable 
position as a lawyer. He was careful and attentive to 
the interests of his clients, and always made full and 
elaborate preparation for the trial o4" his causes. If his 
life had been devoted to his profession, he would doubt- 
less have attained high rank as a lawyer. But his 
attention was early turned to political life, and his pro- 
fessional career was too broken and desultory to enable 
him to attain the highest distinction in it. His ability 
and character were far l>etter suited to a public and 
popular rather than a more professional life. He had 



■tUKKSSrUST!: 



ADDRESSES ON THE 



been 1)ul a very finv years at the l)ar, and a resident oi" 
the town of liutla nd, when he was chosen to represent 
that town in the State h'gislature. It was quite rare 
at that day that so young a nian was chosen to repre- 
sent one of tlie oklcst and most important towns in the 
State, and which contained many leach ng pLd)lic men 
])ut he had ah^eady attained a high position as an able 
and ])opular speaker upon pul)li(t and political questions, 
and his career in the State legislature added to this a 
reputation as a wise and careful legislator. 

It was as sj)eaker of the Vermont house of re})re- 
sentatives tliat he first displayed that almost wonderful 
aptitude and capacity as the presiding officer of a delib- 
erative assembly which afterwards made him so cele- 
l)rated throughout the nation when he l)ecame the 
})residing officer of the Senate of the Unit(Hl States, as, 
perhaps, the best presiding officer in the whole country, 
lie seemed almost to have l^een made lor the position. 
His fine, majestic jierson, his dignified deportment, his 
full and rich voice, his easy and graceful manner, all 
conspired to make him a most useful and acceptable 
])resi(lent over any a^send)ly. Ilis knowledge of parlia- 
mentary law and usage was very thorough, but not 
more so, probably, than many others. His superiority 
ill this respect appeared born in him. His look })re- 
served order: the slightest word allayed confusion. 
The same grace of person and dignity of manner 
attended him ahvays and everywhere, and was ecpially 
pleasing and agreeable in private society or on the 



Sc'iiate floor. It bad iiotliiiig of haughtiness or arro- 
gance, but was kindly and benignant. It had doubtless 
much to do with the abnost universal personal love and 
reverence felt for him by all who knew him. 

Mr. Foot was not a man of great originality. I am 
not aware of any great public measure that he origi- 
nated. He did not take much part in the debates 
in the Senate upon general subjects, but he w^as 
always in his seat, careful and watchful of all measures, 
with excellent judgment of what was for the public 
interest. A mend)er of the present cabinet, who served 
ten years with him in the Senate, said to me during 
Mr. Foot's sickness, that he never knew a man whose 
votes were always more consistently right than his. 
When he did speak in the Senate, it was generally with 
careful preparation, and then he spoke wisely and well, 
and was listened to with great attention and respect. 
He was always taithful and prompt in his attendance 
on his committees, in making his reports, and in the 
performance of every public duty; but it was especially 
in his duty to his State, and the people of his State, 
that his watchfulness, energy, and untiring eiforts were 
mainly directed, No interest of Vermont was allowed 
to suffer or remain unguarded, either in Congress or in 
any department of the general government. And so 
with every citizen of the State having right or claim or 
]iroper request upon any department of the government, 
.Mr. Foot made it his own special duty to see it 
righted. 



IIo loved and hoiiorod Vermont; he was proud lliat 
it was the jdaee of his birth. More tlian once since I 
l)ecame his colleague he has mentioned the tact to me 
that never l)efore was Vermont represented in the 
Senate hy two of her sons born on her own soil, and 
he seemed to dwell on the idea with great satisfaction. 
During his illness, and aftcu- he became satisfied he 
should not recovi^r, he loved to speak of being carried 
back 1o his native State; of ])eing buried under the 
shadow of her grand mountains and green hills, and 
within sound of her waterfalls, and that his grave 
would be among his own peo[)l(^ whom he loved, and 
who loved him so well. 

^Ir. Foot's real gi'eatness and the cause of his uni- 
versal popularity I have not yet named. Some men 
arc called great from a single great action — others hy a 
few great deeds. i\Ir. Foot was a great man by reason 
of his great heart ; not a single act or several acts of 
great statesmanship, but a litctime of good and gen- 
erous and unselfish deeds, made him great, and gave 
him such a hold uj>on the hearts of the people of his 
own State and others who knew him. 

His mental faculties were of a high order ; his ac- 
(luiremcnts were very respectable indeed ; his judgment 
was excellent; he had extraordinary gifts of person 
and manners; l)ut many men possessing all these in 
c([ual degree would never have attained a tithe of the 
honor and res[)ect he did. It was his generous, warm- 
hearted love and sympathy for his fellows, and his 



(exhibition of it to them and tor tlieni at all tinier, that 
induced their love and respect tor him. You saw with 
me the general exhibition of sorrow tor his death here, 
where he had been so long and was so well known and 
so highly respected ; but it was my fortune to l)e one 
of your committee to attend his remains to his old 
home and among the neighljors and associates of his 
daily home life. Had you witnessed the deep gloom 
and sadness that hung over that whole community, the 
tears that fdled so many eyes as we fulfilled our melan- 
choly duty, you might well have exclaimed, " Behold 
how they loved him !" Living in another part of the 
State from Mr. Foot, and our pursuits for many years 
having been so ditferent, I had never much personal 
intimacy with him until the commencement of the 
present session, when I became his colleague. From 
that time till his death we lived in the same house, and 
tdl his sickness at the same table. I soon saw why all 
loved and respected him, and shared their sentiments in 
the fullest manner. 

The infinite pains he took to make my position agree- 
aljle ; to make me acquainted with the course and details 
of l)u.siness in the Senate; the ])roperofiices and depart- 
ments for everything — in short, the whole routine of con- 
gressional drudgery, which it is so important for every 
man to know, and still every man is expected to find out 
lor himself — was what I did not expect iwm him, and 
probably should have received from no other man. But 
with his nature he could hardly have avoided doing it. 



The circumstances of his sickness and death were 
such that general pubhcity has been given to various 
interviews and partings between him and vahied 
friends, solemn and affecting in their character and 
interest I took my hist leave of him on that same 
afternoon before his death. I could not now attempt 
to describe it, but I shall never forget his affectionate 
language or his solemn benediction at our parting. 

I mourn his loss in common with all who knew him; 
but, with all who believe in the heaven hereafter, I 
doubt not that our loss is his infinite gain. His trium- 
phant Christian death was a fitting end for so loving 
and useful a life. 

Well may w^e all })ray that our lives and our deaths 
may be like his. Sorely, indeed, has my native State 
been stricken ; her two most distinguished sons, long 
her joint representatives in this body, where they rep- 
resented her with so much ability, usefulness, and 
credit, both taken away by death, and so near each 
other that the stunning eflect of the first blow had 
hardly passed when the other came. God grant that 
those who have survived and succeeded them may be 
enabled in some degree to emulate their virtues and 
usefulness to the State and people thus bereaved ! 



Address of Mi'. Johnson, of Maryland. 

Mr. J^kksident: I ]-is(; l)ii(Hy lo parlicij);.i1e in j)it\- 
m^r honor to llic ni('iij(jrv of our departed iriciid and 
associate. Sucli tribute's to virtues, j)u])lie and privaic, 
as he possessed, cannot fail to benelit the hving as well 
as lienor the dead. They show those who are com- 
mencing liie how it is, and what it is, to earn a name 
that will live altcM* death, and b(; io iamily and Iriends 
a p]-ieel(.'ss h(;ritage. They show the vahu; (jf h(jnest 
lame, a ilimc; which survives death, and becomes brighter 
as time rolls on. They show how immeasurably supe- 
ri(jr in the estimation of the good is such fame to that 
sickly evanescejit one which is occasionally achieved by 
artful and dishonorabh; cojitrivances. 

The life, too, of a Christian man, as Solomon Foot 
was, if no other evidence existed of the truth ot" the 
Christian dispensation, would be sufficient to demon- 
strate it. Its influence upon hinj in this world, its 
comfort, its joy to him in death, is sufficient to estab- 
lish its divine origin lie who with evident sincerity, 
and while his rniiid was as perfect as ever, nearly at 
the moment oi" dissolution, could say that he i'aM 
" boriKj uj) as on angels' wings," and in the \vYy mo- 
ment preceding it, with hand and eyes uplifted, could 
exclaim, "I see it! I sr'e it! The gates arc wide open! 
Beautiful ! Beautiful !" and then die, is a witness to 
our faith that the sophistries of skepticism can never 
counteract. 



The memory of such a man shoiihl not 1)0 lost. It 
is not rnoufih thai it may survive in the rrcoUection oi' 
his family and iiientls ; it should live in the records of 
the body to which he was so lonj^ attached, and which 
he so iiiithfully served and honored. The Senate of the 
United States should per])etuate the; evidence that 
Solomon Foot was t()r years one of its most honored 
meml)ers, r(\spected, a(hiiired, loved l)y every associate 
for his iaithfulness, his patriotism, his endearing social 
qualities, and revered ibr his Christian death. This 
will be done by the proceedings of this (hiy. 

Mr. Foot's pul)lic career is now so well known that 
it would 1)0 idl(5 in me to attem])t its detail. This has 
been done l)y his colleague. Seldom engaging in de- 
bate, we yet knew, in advance, the result to which his 
sound judgment, ewr unswayed by passion or prejudice, 
would lead him. Though in a largo and comprehensive 
sense a party man, his principles were adopted because 
they, in his estimation, led to general and not partial 
good. No sectional Jeeling ever consciously inlluenced 
him. His mind and his heart embraced his whole 
country, and he loved even his native Vermont, to 
which he was so strongly attached, the more because 
i1 was a })art of the great whole. His reading, his 
iamiliarity willi the history of his country, .his expe- 
rience had convinced him that national ])rosperity and 
renown, as v\-ell as the happiness of the several States, 
could only l)e attained tiirough the Union established 
l)y our fathers, and he could never, therefore, tolerate 



lliose who threatened its dissolution or ibolishly 
attempted, with a view to depreciate it, to calculate its 
value. In heart and mind a Unionist, he entered zeal- 
ously into all the measures calculated to terminate our 
recent civil strife ; and although in some respects, I 
believe, not a very sanguine man, he never doubted a 
successful result. It was encouraging to hear him 
spenk on the subject. lie had studied our institutions, 
liad become extensively acquainted with our people, 
and knew how deep was their attachment to the gen- 
eral government ; and with this knowledge he was 
satisfied that the first were adequate to meet the emer- 
gency if their powers were exerted, and that the latter 
would peril all to have them exerted. lie lived, thank 
God, to see his prediction verified. When he left us 
he knew that the strife was over, the Union everywhere 
reinstated in all its rightful authority, and that nothing 
remained to l)e done l)ut l)y proper efforts to calm the 
agitation inseparable from such a contest, and win us 
all back into our ancient lirotherhood. 

Mr. President, although we shall no more see our late 
l)rother in this chamber, which of us will ever forget 
his manly presence, his uniform dignity, his ever con- 
stant watchfulness over the proper decorum of the 
body, his unbending firmness, his uniform courtesy as 
its frequent presiding officer ? And, above all, which 
of us who listened to the touching story of his last days 
on earth, as recently told us by the reverend clergynum 
who was his pastor in this city, but will have cause to 



rejoice it" he can live and die as lived and died Solomon 
Foot — dyin.'r, to use; his own truthful words in his 
eulo<i:y on his former colleague, Jacob Collanier, so 
atlectingly delivered in this chamber on the 14th of 
December last, and so strikhigly ai)plicable to himself^ — 
" in the full exercise of his intellectual faculties, with 
an abiding and unshaken faith in the Christian religion, 
and in tlie cherished hope of a blissful immortality I" 



Address of j\Ir. Fessenden, of Maine. 

Mk. President: In attempting to speak of one so 
long associated with ns, and endeared to us by so many 
rare and excellent qualities, as the late Senator Foot, I 
cannot but feel impressed with the difficulty of doiug 
perfect justice either to the man or the occasion; a 
ditbculty increased by the long, uninterrupted, almost 
brotherly, friendshi[) which existed between him and 
myself But, difficult as the task may be, I cannot, if 
I would, withhold my tribute to the character and 
niemorv of one so much beloved, and who is held by 
all his associates in most airectionate rcmeml)rance. 

The death of our friend was so unlooked for, his 
promise of prolonged life and continued usefulness 
seemed so secure, it is hard to realize that his i)lace is 
vacant, and that we shall see him no more upon earth. 
But yesterday he stood among us, imposing in the 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 45 



beauty and statcliness of perfect manhood, his face 
beaming with kindliness, his whole aspect dignitied and 
serene, glowing with health and vigor; to-day all that 
was mortal of onr friend and brother reposes in a 
distant grave, among those by whom he w^as loved, and 
trusted, and honored — a grave watered by many tears, 
and venerated for its sacred^dust — while the true and 
noljle spirit which once animated that clay has ascended 
to give an account of its mission upon earth, and to 
enjoy, as we may well believe, the reward of a well- 
spent life. 

An event like this, touching in its signilicance, be- 
comes the more startling when follo\\'ing closely upon 
another scarcely less impressive. In a single session 
of the Senate, within a lew short months, we hear the 
announcement that Death has laid his icy fingers upon 
both senators from one of the States of this Union, 
each a man of eminent mark in this body, and at a 
period when the loss of their wisdom, their experience, 
their patriotism, their unswerving integrity, and un- 
selfish devotion to their country's good, is most severely 
felt. That State has many noble and most worthy 
sons among whom it may choose for places of trust 
and honor; but no State can give at once to the public 
councils the assurance, which time only can bestow, of 
that fitness which experience and trial alone can prove 
and secure. 

When, Mr. President, a man, however eminent in 
other pursuits, and whatever claims he may have to 



46 



ADDRESSES ON THE 



])ul)lit' ('onfidcMice, bccouics a momhor of lliis body, ho 
has much to h;ani and much lo endure. Little docs 
he know of what he will have lo encounter. He may 
be well read in public aifairs, l)ut he is unaware of the 
difficulties which must attend and end^arrass every 
edort to rentier what he may know available and use- 
ful, lie may be upright m purpose and strong in th(! 
belief in his own integrity, but he cannot even dream 
of the ordeal to which he cannot fail to be exposed; of 
how much courage he must possess to resist the temp- 
tations which daily l)eset him; of that sensitive shrink- 
ing from undeserved censure M-liich he must learn to 
control; of the ever- recurring contest between a natural 
desire for ])ublic approbation and a sense of public 
duty; of the load of injustice he must be content to 
l)ear, even from those who should be his friends; the 
imputations on his motives; the sneers and sarcasms of 
ignorance and malice; all the manifold injuries which 
partisan or private malignity, disappointed of its object, 
may siiower upon his un[)rotected head. All this, if 
he would retain his integrity, he must learn to bear 
unmoved, and walk st(»adily onward in the path of 
public duty, sustained only by the reflection that time 
may do him justice, or, if not, that his individual hopes 
and aspirations, and vwn his name among men, should 
be of little account to him when weighed in the balance 
against the vvelfirc of a people, of wdiose destiny he is 
a constituted guardian and defender. 

To such an ordeal, Mr, President, our lamented 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 47 



irieiid was sul)je'cte(l for fourteen years, at a most trying 
period, and admirably did he bear the triaL Coming 
to the Senate when two antagonist forces had pro- 
claimed what soon proved to l)e a hollow truce, he was 
;i witness to the outbreak which marked its termina- 
tion, and was a party to the struggle wdiich, after several 
years, eventuated in civil war. From the first moment 
his course was clearly defined. Representing a people 
of strong convictions, and himself a child of free insti- 
tutions, he could not but become their champion. As- 
suming no leadership, content io follow so long as the 
measures proposed commended themselves to his judg- 
ment and his conscience, his firm and vigorous su})port 
was always to be relied on as a certainty. He was not 
one to make capital lor himself at the expense of his 
country, or of those with whom he acted If work 
was to be done, he was ready to do it. If a trying 
moment came, it found him prepared. Whatever of 
dire portents might shoot across the political sky, with 
unshrinking heart he stood erect to meet, and, if pos- 
sible, to avert, the threatened calamity. Deeply lament- 
ing the terrible issue, sad and sometimes almost de- 
spairing as he witnessed its sanguinary results, there 
was no moment of doubt, not even of hesitation, with 
him. Let us rejoice and l)e thankful that he lived to 
see the dawn of a brighter day. 

Through all this long period of fourteen years, 
checkered as they were with great events, the course 
of ordinary legislation has required a high degree of 



I ^inwi'iTni tn ur i itet 



48 ADDRESSES ON THE 



intellectual power. In a country like ours, where pro- 
gress is so ra})id, change so instantaneous, the human 
mind so active, new fields of effort so broad and diver- 
sified, legislation must acconnnodate itself to the neces- 
sities, and often to the impulse, of the hour. It is 
impossible here to travel steadily in ancient ways. The 
legislator who stands still will not meet the require- 
ments of our day. 

Of such our friend was not one. With an intellect 
broad and powerful in its grasp and enlarged l)y study 
and retlection, limited by no narrow or sectional views, 
just and liberal in spirit, looking upon his country as a 
whole, and loving it in all its parts, nothing that could 
aid in its development or advance its best interests 
failed to receive his sympathy and support. And sel- 
dom w\as his deliberate judgment at fault. To say that 
he might not sometimes have erred would be to pro- 
claim him more than human. To assert that he was 
never wilfully wrong, or erred but where wise and 
good men might well differ, is doing him no more than 
justice. The crowning beauty of his public life, more 
than all else, was that whatever he did, however he 
might act, no spot w^as left upon the perfect enamel of 
his character as a legislator. Malice could not stain its 
whiteness. In all that he did there was that trans- 
])arent truthfulness which attracts and secures the con- 
fidence of friends, and compels the respect, and even 
admiration, of adversaries — enemies, he had none 

A stranger, Mr. President, upon entering this cham- 



ber and casting bis eyes around upon tbc Senate, could 
not but be struck with the im})osing presence of our 
departed friend and associate, and attracted by the rare 
union of mildness and dignity in his expressive features. 
If he rose to speak, the commanding, yet pleasant, 
tones of his voice, and the noble grace of his demeanor, 
the elegance of his language, and his clear and t()rcilde 
statement, would deepen the hrst lavoral)le impres-sion. 
If called to the chair, as lie was more often than any 
other, that seemed to l)e the place he was made to fill. 
There was exhibited his remarkal)le love of order, his 
impartiality, his sense of senatorial propriety, his entire 
iitness to preside over and control the deliberations of 
what should be a grave, decorous, and dignified body of 
thoughtful men charged with great trusts, and alive to 
their importance. Whatever was in the least degree 
unbecoming was offensive to his feelings and his taste; 
but however these might be offended, lie never for a 
moment forgot what was due to the Senate and to him- 
self, as its officer. Would that his precepts and his 
example in these particulars may not be forgotten. 
Often, sir, when we look upon the chair you occupy, 
however ably and iaithfully it may be filled, must we 
think of him whose admonitions we well remember, 
and to wdiose unshaken firmness and unwearied patience 
we were so often indebted for the preservation of that 
respect which we owe to ourselves. 

Averse to much speaking, Mr. Foot did not often 
address the Senate, and never l)ut after careful thought; 



4 F 



and yet he possessed every advantage for distinguished 
snccess. His mental powers, as I have before remarked, 
were carefidly trained and cultivated, his command of 
language was excellent, his taste correct, his voice so- 
norous, and his action at once arraccful and diijnified. 
That with such advantages he should have taken so 
small a share in debate, esi)ecially in later years, when 
he had become familiar with })uljlic afliiirs, must seem 
not a little singular to those not acquainted with his 
habits of thought and his peculiar temperament. The 
ex})lanation, however, is simple, and may be found in 
his remarkable want of self-appreciation. Modest to a 
fault, he never did anything like justice to his own 
jiowers. To others, and especially to those ^\'ho pos- 
sessed his confidence and atfection, he did more than 
justice, being too ready always to receive and defer to 
the opinions of others in no respect su})erior to himself 
Thence it followed that he seldom addressed the Senate 
u{)on subjects which occasioned general debate. Upon 
those rare occasions when his voice was heard, the ques- 
tions were such, for the most part, as in his opinion had 
not received the attention their importance deserved. 
We all know tin; res[)ect with which he was invariably 
listened to, and the light shed by his intellect and iiis 
inchistry u})on whatever subject he chose to touch. 

His political friends are well aware how this want of 
self-assertion in merely personal matters was e.\hil)ited 
in all his relations to and intercourse with them. 
Though long the ohlest member of the Senate in con- 



secutivc service, he invariably avoided conspicuous 
place. While others might seek for and claim desirable 
positions upon leading committees as due to their 
States, if not to themselves, he was satisfied with any 
that was assigned to him, however derogatory it might 
seem to his age and standing, preferring and urging the 
claims of others, and desiring only that all should be 
satisfied. Often have I known him to insist that his 
name should be struck from an important committee, 
in order to replace it with the name of a friend or asso- 
ciate to whom he thought the distinction would be 
grateful. To him more than any other was assigned 
the unenviable task of arranging these committees, not 
only because all confided in his sense of justice, but 
because of his disinterested magnanimity. I have often 
thought that such generoi^s abnegation of self should 
not have Ijeen permitted. I know that on several occa- 
sions it \\'as peremptorily overruled. 

That such a senator, so useful, so modest, so unas- 
suming, so courteous, so kind, of a deportment so unex- 
ceptionable, should have won the good-will of all his 
associates and the love of many, and that his loss should 
occasion universal sorrow, may well be supposed. 
Those, however, who saw and marked the crowds as- 
sendjled to witness the last sad ceremonies, and who 
noted the many weeping eyes which looked ujion his 
coffin, would naturally be led to consider that nothing 
in the routine of his pul)lic career could account for a 
grief so deep and so general. Men are not apt to be 



inoiiriied with tears for public services, or even on ac- 
count of ])ul)lic or private virtue. Great intellectual 
pre-eminence may excite admiration, but when the 
light goes out its absence occasions; l)ut a weak and 
transient emotion. Gifts and qualities like these "come 
not near the heart." The secret of all that genuine and 
unaffected sorrow for the friend we have lost lies in the 
feeling of all who came within his sphere, that his was 
a true and noble and loving nature: Impulsive and 
ardent in temperament, he was kind, generous, and for- 
giving. If injury excited liim to anger, it was a gen- 
erous anger which could hardly outlive the occasion, and 
perished of itself if let alone. Enthusiastic in his friend- 
slii}), no labor was too severe, no sacrifice too great, f()r 
those to whom he gave his affection. He was proud of 
his country, of his State, of his friends. For himself 
he was humble. Of an open hand, his charity was 
instantaneous and unsuspecting. If 

" lie prayetli bef^t who lovclh best 
All tliiiigH, both great and small," 

then was he a man of prayer. And if "the cluunber 
where a good man meets his fide" is holy, then may we 
rejoice who were permitted to feel the loveliness of his 
dying hour. 

Admirable senator ! patriotic citizen ! good and true 
man I dear and cherished friend ! this scene of your 
many labors will know you no more, l)ut long will your 
memory dwell in these halls! This marble })ile, bear- 



iiiLT NIC iiiiprf'ss ot your wiilcliliil care, is one ol your 
iiioiiiDiK'Dls. lis niassiv<' j)illars,\vill stand creel, giviu^r 
tlieir lestimoiiy to our country's grandeur lowu, long 
alter we and general ions yet to conic sliall have; passed 
like shadows u])on the water; yet lie who, like yourself* 
shall have ))(;rloniied his duly in life, and died with a 
Christian's hope, will surviv(; when all lhes(,* columns 
shall he lost 1o sight in the accumulated dust oiages. 



Address of ^[li. Hiiow.x. of Missouri. 

Mr. I^KKSIDEN'I' : When it was signified that a sulise- 
quent day would he set ajtart fijr a])]»ropriate ommemo- 
ration in honor ot" the latrdy deceased senator from 
A Crinont, J had designed prej)aring some extended 
trihute to attest my warm regard for liis virtues and 
my great a])preciation of Iiis talents. An indisjiosition, 
howev(;r, that has prostrated me almost to the present 
moment, will jirevent my doing as I wtjuld have wished. 
Still I am not willing to let this occasion pass without 
any memorial word from my lips. 

Long years ago, sir, I learncfl to admire the steadfast 
devotion to {'vcc ];rinciples, amid the thick conflict of" 
impending revolution, inanif'ested in the public lif"e of 
Senator Yoot. ''J'here was a moral fijrce, an undemon- 
strative heroism, in his. quiet methods of persistence, 
impressive far beyond any pronounced mannerism. 



But it was only when I came to know him personally 
in the relations ol" i»rivate intercourse that I realized 
the ibrce and beauty of his full-orl^ed manhood. 

The reciprocal action of thought and feeling so often 
dissociated l)y the wear of political avocation was with 
him a perfect accord. Among the first who extended 
to me the hand of welcome upon my entrance into this 
body, he emphasized that welcome by a cordial man- 
ner, a refined courtesy, an unselfish guidance, and from 
that hour until the hour of his departure I can truly 
say that I relied upon his friendship with a confidence 
as absolute as if it had been the growth of years. It 
seemed as though the animation of his noble nature 
shone out radiant from his person; that a countenance 
in which was blended boldness and s.weetness gave true 
index oi' the spirit within. And such as he seemed I 
ever found him to be — a man free from guile, pure in 
patriotism, clear of faith, upright, punctual, deliberate, 
and wise with the wisdom that comes of observation, 
which develops in action rather than argument, and 
which is serene because it is ever charitable. 

Of a large tyi)e of intellect, capable of most moving 
speech, graceful beyond most in elocution, he was sel- 
dom heard in the debates of this chamber, and yet it 
will be said of him that lew, if any, better fulfilled the 
proper duties of a senator, or did more thoroughly the 
work assigned him, either by constituents or compeers. 
Often chosen to preside here, eminently worthy of such 
dignity, possessed with a voice rich in melody, quick of 



apprehension amid diverse questioning, rapid in judg- 
ments, yet modest in affirmation, lie became at last the 
oracle ot" the Senate, to wliom all referred in disputed 
matters of parliamentar}' ruling. Observant, scrupu- 
lously observant, of the forms and ceremonies that usage 
has grown, like mosses, around the procedure of this 
the most august deliberative body of the world, he was 
yet even more deferential to duty than to form or cere- 
mony. Indeed, I think if he had one dominant element 
that ruled all else in his evenly 1)alanced mind, it was a 
rigid, unswerving sense of duty that would sutler no 
consideration to set aside its claim ; a sense of duty to 
which, in the prime of a vigorous physical development, 
he, by too assiduous devotion, sacrificed his life. 

But wliy do I say sacriticed his life ? Has he not 
gone rather to the eternal life beyond those "beautiful 
gates" which shone upon his fading vision with un- 
earthly splendor, into the everlasting tabernacles of 
light and love, to dwell forever with his God ? Stand- 
ing by the side of that dying statesman, witnessing 
with what composure he consciously drew near his 
dissolution ; hearing him i)ronounce the vanity and 
emptiness of titled honors when present with death, and 
yet kindle into exultation and triumph as he spoke of 
his infinite hope in a redeemed resurrection ; hund)ly 
partaking with him of that last sacrament that sealed 
him to the church, and Indding him a farewell, full of 
sympathy to me, full of joy to him, I cannot think we 
have any right to mourn here to-day. 




Let us, tlit'ii, i\Ir. President, cherish the example of 
tluit hfe which he led as worthy to be our guide in ])cr- 
fbrming those high trusts committed to our charge, and 
let lis deal with the memory of him who has passed 
from our midst, not as a memory draped with the signs 
of mourning, l)ut bright and l)eautiful and glorious, tit 
to l)e crowned with music and with flowers, not with 
elegiac responses. 



Address of Mr. Sl'mnek, of Massachusetts. 

Mr. President: There is a truce in this chandjcr. 
The antagonism of debate is hushed. The echoes of 
conflict have died away. The white flag is flying. 
From opposite camps we come together to bury the 
dead. It is a senator that we bury, and not a soldier. 

This is the second time during the present session 
that we have l)een called to mourn a distinguished 
senator from Vermont. It was much to bear such a 
loss once. Its renewal now after so brief a peri(Kl is a 
calamity without precedent in the history of the Senate. 
No State before has ever lost tw^o senators so near 
together. 

Mr. Foot at his death was the oldest senator in con- 
tinuous, service. lie entered the Senate in the same 
Congress with the senator from Ohio (Mr. AVade) and 
m^'self ; but he was sworn in at the called session in 



jMiircli, wliilc the two ollu^rs wen; not sworn in till IIk; 
succ('C(llii<( DeccinlxT. J )urin>r tliis coiisidcinihlc s|i;ic(; 
oftiiiK; I li;iv(^ hern llic coiislaiil witness lo his lili; ;in(l 
('onvcrsiilion. It is wiili !i scniinicnt of <i;r;i(i1 tuh; llial 
I look l):H:k njK)!) onr rclalions, never IVoni llie. heirin- 
nin^^ ini|)iiir(;(l or (lurktMied \>y any (liller(;n(:e. Vi)V one 
hiiel" moment he seemed distiirlx'd l)y sonx^tliin^^ that 
ji'll IVom ni(! in Ihe nnconseious intcnsily ol" my convie- 
lions, l)nt it was l()r ;i hrief monn-nt oidy, ;ind he look 
my lumd with a genial <i;rasj). I make haste; also to 
declare! my sense of his personal purity and his ineor- 
ruptibh; nalure. Sueh eh^ments of" (diaraeter, (!xliil)i1ed 
and i)roved 1hron<;hoiit ii. loni;- service, render him an 
exam|)le for all. II(; is gone, Init these; virtues "smell 
sweet and blossom in the dust." 

He was excellent in judgment. Jh; was excell<;)it 
also in speed), so that whenever Ik; spoke; the; we)neler 
was that he- whe) s|)e)ke' se) we'll sliotdd spe;;ds. se) rare-ly. 
lie was lull, clear, dire'e-t, e;m])hatie', anel ne'V(;r was 
diverted i"re)m the; thre'ael e)(" his argmne-nt. llael he 
been move-d to mingle actively in elebate-, he- must luive; 
exerted a cejmmanding inilue'iice e)ver e)j)inion in the; 
Senate anel in the; country. IIe)W eiite-n we have; 
watched him ti'anepiil in his se;at while e)tl)e'rs, without 
his experience; e)r we-ight, e)ccupie;el atte;ntie)n. 'I'lie; 
reticence which was a j)art e)f" his nature le)rme;el a ce)n- 
trast to that prevailing e-li"usion v\ he-re- se)ine'time;s the; 
facility e)i" sj)e'eedi is less re'miiikid)le; t haii the in;d)ilily 
te) ke-ep sile-nt ; anel, iigain, it Ibrme'el a e;ont)"ast to that 



colli roversial spirit wliich too often, like an unwelcome 
w iiid, pills out the lights, while it fhns a flame. And 
}'et in his treatment of questions he was never incom- 
plete or perfunctory. If he did not say, with the oratof 
and parliamentarian of France, the famous founder of 
the Doctrinaire school of poUtics, M. Royer Collard, 
that he had too much respect for his audience ever to 
ask attention to anything which he had not first 
written, it was evident that he never spoke in the 
Senate without careful preparation. You do not forget 
his commemoration of his late colleague only a few 
short weeks ago, when he deUvered a funeral oration 
not unworthy of the French school from which this 
form of eloquence is derived. Alas! as we listened to 
that most elal)orafe eulogy, shaped by study and pene- 
trat(.'d by feeling, how little did we think that it was so 
soon to be echoed ])ack from his own tomb ! 

It was not in our debates only that this self-abnega- 
tion showed itself He quietly withdrew from places 
of importance on committees to which he was entitled, 
and which he would have filled with honor. More 
than once I have known him to insist that another 
should take the position assigned to himself He was 
far from that nature which Lord Bacon exposes, in pun- 
gent humor, when he speaks of "extreme self-lovers, 
\\ ho would Inini u house in order to roast their eu^jjs." 
And yet it must not be disguised that he was happy in 
the office of senator. It was to him as much as his 
"(hikedom' to I*rospero. He felt its honors and con- 



fessed its duties. But he was content. He desired 
nothing more. Perhaps no person appreciated so 
thoroughly what it was to l:)ear the commission of" a 
State in this chaml)er. Surely no person appreciated 
so thoroughly all the dignities which belong to the 
Senate. Of its ceremonial he was the admitt(>d arbiter. 

There was no jealousy, envy, or uncharitableness in 
him. He enjoyed what others did, and praised gener- 
ously. He knew that his own just position could not 
be distur])ed by the success of another. Whatever 
another may be, whether more or less, a man must 
always l:)e himself. A true man is a positive, and not a 
relative, cpiantity. Properly inspired, he will know 
that in a just sense no])ody can stand in the way of 
another. And here let me add that, in proportion as 
this truth enters into practical life, we shall all Ijecome 
associates and coadjutors rather than rivals. How plain 
that, in the infinite diversity of character and tah^nt, 
there is a place for every one. This world is wide 
enough for all its inhabitants; this republic is grand 
enough for all its people. Let every one serve in his 
place according to the faculties that have been given to 
him. 

In the long warfare with slavery Mr. Foot was from 
the beginning firmly and constantly on the side of free- 
dom. He was against the deadly compromises of 1850. 
He hnked his shield in the small, but solid, phalanx of 
the Senate which oi)posed the Nebraska bill. He was 
faithlul in the defence of Kansas, menaced by slavery. 



An(] when at last this l)ar1)an)iis rebel took up arms, he 
accepted the issue, and did all that he could for his 
coniitrv. But even the cause which for years he had 
so nuK'h at heart did not lead him into debate, except 
very rarely. His opinions appeared in votes rather 
Ilia II in speeches. But his sympathies were easily 
known. I do not forget that when I first came into 
the tSenate, and was not yet personally familiar with 
him, I was assured l)y Mr. Giddings, who knew him 
w^ell, that he belonged to the small circle who would 
stand l)y freedom, and the anti-slavery patriarch added 
pleasantly that Mr. Foot, on his earliest visit to the 
House of Representatives after he became senator, 
drew attention ])y coming directly to his seat and sit- 
ting by his side in friendly conversation. Mr. Foot 
by the side of Joshua R. Giddings, in those days when 
slavery still tyraimized, is a picture not to be forgotten. 
li' our departed Iriend is not to be named among those 
who have l)()rne the burden of this great controversy, 
he must not l)e forgotten among those whose sym- 
pathies with liberty never failed. Would that he had 
done more. Let us be thankful that he did so much. 
There is a part on the stage known as the "walking 
gentleman," who has very little to say, but \\'ho always 
appears well. Mr. Foot might seem, at times, to have 
adopted this ])art, if we were not constantly reminded 
of his watchfulness in everything concerning the course 
of l»usiness, and the administration of parliamentary 
law. Here he excelled and was the master of us all. 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. Gl 



The division of labor, wliich is the lesson of })olitical 
economy, is also the lesson of public lite. All cannot 
do all things. Some do one thing; others do another 
thing; each according to his gifts. This diversity pro- 
duces harmony. 

The office of President pro tempore among us grows 
out of the anomalous relations of the Vice-President 
to the Senate. There is no such officer in the other 
house, nor was there in the House of Commons until 
very recently, when we read of a "deputy speaker," 
which is the term by which he is addressed when in 
the chair. No ordinary talent can guide and control a 
legislative assembly, especially if it be numerous, or if it 
]je excited by party dificrences. A good presiding 
officer is like Alexander mounting Bucephalus. The 
assembly knows its master "as a horse knows its rider." 
This was pre-eminently the case of Mr. Foot, who was 
often in the chair, and was for a considerable period 
our President pro tempore. Here he showed a special 
adaptation and power. He was in person "every inch" 
a President; so also was he in every sound of the voice. 
He carried into the chair the most marked individuality 
that has been seen there during this generation. He 
was unlike any other presiding officer. None but him- 
self could be his parallel. His i)resence was felt in- 
stantly. It filled this chamber from floor to gallery. 
It attached itself to evervthing that was done. Vii^for 
and despatch jirevailed. Questions were stated so as 
to challenge attention. Impartial justice was manifest 




at once. Business in every form was handled with 
equal case. Order was enforced with no timorous 
authority. If disturbance came from the gallery, how 
})romptly he launched his fulmination. If it came froui 
Ihe tloor, you have seen him throw himself back, and 
then, witii voice of lordshi]), as if all the Senate was 
in Inm, insist that debate shonld be suspended until 
order was restored. "The Senate must come to order," 
he exclaimed, while, in unison with his powerful voice, 
he beat w ith ivory hammer, like another god Thor, 
until the reverberations rattled like thunder in the 
mountains. 

The Duke de Morny, who was the accomplished 
president of the legislative assembly of France, in a 
sitting shortly l)efore his death, after sounding his 
crier's bell, which is the substitute for the hammer 
among us, exclaimed from the chair, "I shall ])e obliged 
to mention by name the members whom I find con- 
versing. I declare to you that I shall do so, and I shall 
have it put in the Moniteur. You are here to discuss 
and to listen, not to converse. I promise you that I 
will do what I say to the very first I catch talking." 
Possibly our I^resident might have found occasion for a 
similar speech, but liis energy in the enforcement of 
order stopped short of this menace. Certainly he did 
everything consistent with llie temper of the Senate, 
anil he showed always what Sir William Scott, on one 
occasion in the House of Commons, })laced among the 
essential qualities of a speaker, when he said that "to 



DEATH OF HON. JSOLOMON FOOT. 



63 



a jealous affection for the privileges of tlie House 
must be added an awful sense of its duties." 

Accustomed as we have become to the rules which 
govern legislative proceedings, we are hardly aware of 
their importance in the development of liberal institu- 
tions. They were unknown in antiquity, and they 
were unknown also on the European continent until 
latterly introduced from England, which was their 
original home. They are among the precious contribu- 
tions which England has made to modern civilization. 
And yet they did not assume at once their present per- 
fect t()rm. Mr. llallam tells us that even as late as 
Queen Elizabeth members called confusedly tor the 
business they wished brought tbrward. But now, at 
last, these rules have become a beautiful machine by 
which business is conducted, legislation is moulded, and 
(lel)ate is secured in all possible freedom. Fnnn the 
presentation of a petition or the introduction of a l)ill 
all proceeds by fixed processes until, without disorder, 
the final result is reached, and a new law takes its place 
ill the statute-l)ook. Iloe's printing-press or Alden's 
type-setter is not more perfect in its operations. But 
the rules are more even than a beautiful machine; they 
are the very temple of constitutional liljcrty. In this 
temple our departed friend served to the end with 
l)ious care. His associates, as th(y' recall his stately 
form, silvered by time, but beaming with goodness, will 
not cease to cherish the memory of this service. His 
image will rise before them as the faithful presiding 



officer by whom the dignity of the Senate was main- 
tained, its business was advanced, and parhamentary 
law was upheld. 

He had always looked with delight upon this Capi- 
tol — one of the most remarkable edifices of the worlds- 
beautiful in itself^ Init more beautiful still as the em- 
blem of that national unity wliich he loved so well. 
lie enjoyed its enlargement and improvement. He 
watched with pride its marble columns as they moved 
into place, and its dome as it ascended to the skies. 
Even the trials of the war did not make him forget it. 
His care secured those appropriations by which the 
work was carried to its close, and the statue of Liberty 
was installed on its suljlime pedestal. It was natural 
that in his hist moments, as life was failing fast, he 
should long to rest his eyes upon an object whic-h was 
to him so dear. The early light of morninii: had come, 
and he was lifted in his bed that he might once more 
behold this Ca})itol with mortal sight; but there was 
another ca[)itol which already began to fill his vision, 
Ijiirer than your marble columns, subhmer than your 
dome, where liberty without any statue is glorified in 
that service which is perfect freedom. 



Address of Mi*. Pomeroy, of Kansas. 

Mr. President: I l)rii]g to the offerings of this 
occasion a grateful memory of the services rendered a 
strugghng people in a distant Territory by the late 
Senator Foot, of Vermont. Generous efibrts made at 
a crisis in one's history can never be forgotten; and 
when such oiferings are unsought and unrewarded 
they deserve honorable mention. I remember to have 
looked in upon the Senate of the United States when 
the affairs of the Territory of which I was a resident 
engaged the attention of Congress and the country. 
The period to which I refer was the 9th day of August, 
1856. A few only of the distinguished members of the 
present session were then in this body. It was in the 
old Senate chamber, and the leaders in the debate on 
that day are now^ and have been for some years away 
from us. On the day previous the present presiding 
officer of this body had made for Kansas a most earnest, 
faithful, and elocpient speech. And I shall never forget 
the hour which the late senator from Vermont devoted 
to pleading the cause of our struggling people. I am 
sorry that speech has not been preserved. The Con- 
gressional Globe of that date says : " The speech will 
appear in the Appendix." I have searched the Appen- 
dix in vain, and I think it is not there. The only 
record of that memoral)le speech that I can find is 
contained in the National Intelhgencer of the 11th of 
August, 1856, as follows: 



a F 



" Mr. Foot rose to address the Senate for the first time, wo be- 
lieve, upon the Kansas troubles, which, sifted and discussed as that 
subject has been for months — and exhausted, wore it possible — de- 
rived fresh interest from the ability, elo(j[uence, and impressiveness 
with which it was treated by the honorable senator from Vermont. 
This luminous effort we hope to lay before our readers at an early 
day." — Intelligencer, August 11, 1856. 

This is most invaluable testimony, as it comes from a 
source which did not then or now sympathize with the 
cause which was so ably vindicated. I remember well 
the eloquent and stirring appeal he made in our behalf. 
He demanded for us the rights of freemen under the 
Constitution — of free iiomesteads, free ballots, and a free 
State. Noble words, and " fitly spoken." They made 
an impression upon my own mind as indellible as the 
teaching of my boyhood, and I shall forget them only 
when I cease to remember any of the events of this 
.life; and not to recognize services rendered at such a 
crisis would be ingratitude which could not be par- 
doned ; and far away beyond the valleys of the Missis- 
si])[)i and the Missouri there are quiet cabin homes 
where the name of Solomon Foot is a household word. 
In the name of that people who cherish the memories 
oi' their benefactors with undying gratitude, I bring to- 
day this humble tribute of grateful acknowledgments. 
While others lay costlier and more imposing offerings 
upon his burial place, I will content myself by })lanting 
but a single shrub. It shall be an evergreen, for it is 
the uniiiding tribute of gratitude. " He opened his 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 67 

mouth for tlie dumb," and did not shut his ear to th(,' 
cry of the poor; "and the cause that he knew not he 
searched out." Such efforts, no1)ly rendered, shall not 
be forgotten, for the people whom he vindicated were 
not liis people. They were separated from him by the 
breadth of half the continent. But the cause which he 
pleaded w\as the cause of freedom, the cause of his 
countrymen — aye, the cause of mankind. For when one 
member sulfers all suffer; when one is degraded all are 
dishonored. 

'' Whatever link you fftrike" 

from the great chain which binds the human family to 
each other and t(j God, 

"Tenth or ten-thousandth, 
You break the chain alike." 

Mr. President, the departed senator is not dead. No 
man who has nobly lived can ever wholly die. The 
deeds of good men live forever! their memory is 
undying; and their influence is reflected by those who 
live after them ; and it lives on in endless circles, 
widening and deepening forever and forever more. 
Good men are reproduced in each generation, and their 
lives are as immortal as truth, virtue, and God. Sir, 
amidst the green hills and Ijiulding forests of the early 
spring-time the senator slee])s, lieloved, honored, and 
embalmed even in the affections of his devoted home 
circle of friends. But, sir, far away, across the wide 
continent there are those who will hold him in per- 




petiial and grateful remembrance; and year by year, 
as tlie seasons come and go, will a generous peo- 
])le, with offerings of gratitude, consecrate their little 
children by giving them at the altar of their baptism 
llie honored name of the Senator who vindicated their 
rights iuid secured them their lil)erties. But from this 
burial scene we must tear ourselves away, for life has 
its duties as well as death its lessons. We should not 
yield to sorrow, for life, and death, even, have their 
hopes. " For if a man die, he shall live again." 
" When the heavens are no more he shall awake and 
l)e raised out of his sleep." 

" Life is struggle, combat, victory ; 
Wherefore have we slumbered ou 
AVith (Hir forces all unmarslialled, 
With our weapons all undrawn ? 



" Oh, what a glorious record 
Had the angels of me kept, 
If I'd done instead of doubted, 
Had I warred instead of wept. 

" Build thy great acts high and higher, 
Build them on the conquered sod, 
Where thy weakness first fell bleeding, 
Where thy first prayer rose to God." 



Address of ]\Ir. Ckagin, oJ' New Hampshire. 

Mr. PkksiDKNT: L()V(3 (or my iiiiiivc; Slate, syi))})aU)y 
with her pcojjle iu their douhle alllietioii, and great 
respect lor the cliaracter of lier departcMl senators, 
proiiijil me to utter a lew words on this solemn oe(tasloii. 
Few mend)ers of th<; S(M)ai(; have; known SoLOMON 
Foot longer than I have. Running baek itito the years 
ol" niy hoyhood is the memory of this able, j)ure, and 
accomplished man. More than thirty years ago I 
looked will) \)\\i\c. and admiration upon his noble and 
maidy form, and eagerly listened to his (jlcxjuent words. 
It was my rortun(; to have been born and reared within 
thirty miles of wlujre both th(; late senators of Vermont 
long H'sided, and I can truly say that my political faith 
was in |)art derivcid from their teachings. .Judge Col- 
lamer resided in my native county, and my lirst v(d(; 
for member of Congress was given tor him. Only a 
few weeks ago the (hnith of that gr(;at and good man 
was llttingly annomiced in this chamber by his distin- 
guished colleague, whose departure w(! now deplon-. 
What we do lor th(3 dead must soon be <lone l(>r us. 
In his concluding remarks on that occasion In; seems 
to hav(! had a prcjsent iment that his own remaining days 
upon i\\(t earth would be lew. lie said: 

"Mr. Pnjsideiit, he wliose deatli w(! now lament i« gone, to l>e with 
urt no more. Ilis work on earth in done; he strikes a golden harp 
among the seraphim on high. His precepts and liis examph; are 
left to us for our instruction and our profit. Happy, indeed, will it 



be if we shall so profit by tbem that we shall be ready, as he was 
ready, for the final summons in that hour Avhich is coming to us all, 
and to some of us not far oft", when this world and its worthlessness 
shall fade from our sinking vision." 

Thet;e solemn words may now be spoken of" him who 
first uttered them, and again to us. Surely, this life is 
short, very short. Man is here to-day, and gone to-mor- 
row I He is^s the transient grass: "in the morning it 
s})ringeth up and flourisheth; in the evening it is cut 
down and withereth." The great highway of life is 
thronged; some are constantly falling in the race, and 
others are coming to take their places; and the world 
moves on as before, passing, generation after generation, 
into the awful shadow which no eye, except that of 
faith, can i)enetrate. 

It is not my purpose to speak of the public career of 
our lamented friend, but simply to draw attention to 
his general character, and the example of his life. His 
social, moral, and mental quahfications were well 
adapted tor use, and also for show. Of fine, command- 
ing personal appearance, he always bore himself wilh 
great urbanity and dignity of manner. He was one of 
nature's noblemen. His features, his proportions, his 
manners, his mind, all indicated a man. God set the 
seal of greatness upon his brow, and i)lanted within 
the elements of goodness and loving kindness. His 
was a heart of honor, and a tongue of truth. He was 
strong in his convictions, and l)()ld in their utterance. 
He was a firm advocate for freedom and human rights. 



and a most devoted lover of the repnblie. He was one 
of the most ])erfect models of integrity and propi-iety 
Ihat T ever knew. Honor with him was a cardinal 
virtue, and h(^ had a most })(;rfeet taste l()r forms and 
ceremonies. He abhorred meanness, scorned duplicity, 
and despised trickery. In his case there was no i)ov- 
erty of soul. He always looked and acted the perfect 
man. The mantle of truth, which is the garment of 
Ijeauty and exalted manhood, he always w^(n-e. He was 
a sound, practical, and learned man. Twenty-five years 
ago he was a Ihient and captivating speaker; but even 
then his candor, truthfulness, and facts were the great 
elements which carried convictions. He was never, to 
my knowledge, a great talker. He spoke only when 
he had something to say, and he never failed to have 
listeners. Like his colleague, Judge Collamer, he had 
great contempt for wordy preteiKlers; and he did not 
think it the highest attainment of a statesman or a 
scholar to l^e able to marshal words into high-sounding 
sentences, with the superlatives in front. His example 
to the aspiring young men of his State and country 
was of inestimable value. He taught them lessons of 
temperance, truthfulness, honor, and all the social and 
moral virtues of noble manhood. He carried his 
morality and honor into politics, and by his teachings 
and example convinced the young men that honesty 
and straightforward manliness is the best policy in every 
relation in life. He did not believe in that miserable 
heresy, that everything is fair in politics, and that the 



scramble for office is a game tliat justifies untiiir means 
and falsehood. In this he and Judge Collamer were 
much alike. The result of such examples and such 
teachings is that Vermont has the purest political 
atmosphere of any State in the Union. I consider this 
no small compliment to my native State, and I claim it 
as a great honor to her pulilic men. Men in i)ublic 
life are greatly responsible for the morals of the people. 
Men in high positions exert a vast influence upon am- 
bitious young men, and their examples are powerful for 
good or evil If they would all sternly and religiously 
imitate the example of the two lamented senators of 
Vermont, bribery, corruption, and political trickery and 
])aseness would be unknown, and we might all have 
greater hopes of the republic. Two more pure, just, 
and upright statesmen never graced and dignified the 
Senate chamber. Both, in an eminent degree, com- 
bined the qualities that make the perfect man and 
Christian statesman. The lives of both of them have 
illustrated what we should all regard — that character 
is the one thing valuable; that reputation, which is the 
mere shadow of a man, is, in the long run, of infinitely 
less importance. 

Vermont has great cause for mourning. Twice has 
she l)een stricken within a few months, and her two 
most eminent and respected citizens have been taken 
away, and are now buried in the shadow of her green 
mountains. High position could not shield them, great 
ability and moral worth could not save them, from the 



arrows of death. They have gone the way of all the 
earth, but they have left l)right and honoraI)le records 
as a legacy for their own State and as examples lor 
those who may occupy like positions. These noble 
men have conferred great honor upon their State, and 
the people thereof will long hold them in proud and 
grateful remembrance. The loss of Vermont is the 
nation's loss, and we do well to express a nation's sor- 
row. By this sad event, we who occupy these seats 
are called to contemplate the summons which will soon 
come to each one of us. Senators, behold the point 
towards which all human things converge — the grave. 
It is appointed unto all men once to die. A few brief 
years will bring each one of us to the end of life's 
journey and finish our earthly record. When we shall 
have arrived at the last moment of our existence here 
below, and the sight of the natural eye becomes dim, 
God grant that, looking heavenward, we may he al)le to 
exclaim, with our departed friend, "I see it! I see it! 
The gates are wide open! Beautiful! Beautifid!" 



Address of ^Ir. Edmunds, of Vermont. 

Mr. President: Were the aphorism of the great 

(h-amaiist true, that — 

" Tlie evil that men do lives after them ; 
The good is oft interred with their bones," 

there would be little, indeed, left to remind us of -him 
who has now so lately vanished from the council cham- 
ber of the nation and from this vast and majestic edifice 
which has grown into stature and beauty under the 
enchantment of his labors; he would stand with those 
described in the sad but beautiful passage in the Divine 
Comedy: 

"On earth they left no record in their day; 
Mercy and justice hold them in disdain; 
Speak not of them, but look and pass away," 

and his memory would pass with his mortal body 
from the knowledge of men. But a higher philosophy 
and a better religion teach us that, however it be with 
evil, the good that men do is not buried with their 
bones, ]>ut lives after them, ever growing, widening, 
elevating, never lost, and casting its beneficent fruits 
even into th(3 lap of the remotest future. Whatever, 
then, may be the sphere of usefulness and good to which 
a man is called, or in which he moves, whether it be in 
the loftiest regions of politics or ethics, or in the cold 
and serene solitudes of abstract science, or in the prac- 
tical administration of affairs, or in the Innnblest call- 



L 



ings of humble life, be his work well and faithfully 
done, be his mission filled to completion, he has earned 
an equal recompense, and has equally won the victor's 
crown. 

Thus, it has seemed to me that, on this sad and sor- 
rowful occasion I may leave to other and more tlimiliar 
tongues the })raise of Mr. Foot in his character of sen- 
ator and legislator, and may fitly be excused from any 
philosophical analysis, or estimate, or panegyric, of him 
as compared with other eminent men; and leave to the 
future the task of fixing, with impartial exactness, his 
place in the high temple of fame, among the heroes and 
worthies who have gone before him to their rest; and 
the rather, as my heart prompts me, and as the wishes 
of the people whom he has so long and so worthily 
represented would, I am sure, direct, as his home friend 
and fellow-citizen, dwell for a little space, as we mourn 
at his departure, upon his personal relations to his peo- 
ple, aiul upon his long life of un])lemished i)urity, and ■ 
of cordial and earnest love for, and pride in, his native 
State, and upon his constant, and untiring, and success- 
ful efforts to })romote their welfare and to realize their 
wishes: upon his love of his country and of man. 
Born to no ancestral honors, and reaching forward to 
usefulness and influence only by the merit of his own 
vigorous but unaided endeavor, he entered upon lite 
in perfect sympathy with the universal aspirations of 
the people, and so, as step by step he advanced from 
pupil to teacher, from teacher to leader, and from leader 



76 ADDRESSES ON THE 



to ruler, lie was to them the type and example of re- 
publican social i)rogress — the rei)resentative man — and 
all the people looked upon his successes as their own, 
and felt in his advancement a triumph personal to 
themselves. This affectionate sympathy of sentiment 
was fully reciprocated l)y Mr. Foot. He took up, as if 
by instinct, the feelings of the people, and never failed 
to assert them against all antagonism. And these qual- 
ities of his mind and heart were not limited to geo- 
graphical boundaries. He believed in the exhortation: 

" Love thy country and every other, 
And wherever man dwells find a brother 
Whom God hath related to thee." 

So he was admired, and followed, and trusted by the 
masses of the people. Whenever he was called upon 
for assistance he individualized the case of each ap[)li- 
cant and made it his own ; his heart warmed and his 
face lighted up with joy at the opportunity of assisting 
any, however humble, of his fellow-citizens; and hun- 
dreds and thousands will carry through their lives the 
pleasant remembrance of his grasp and smile as he 
would dismiss them with encouragement and counsel. 
Thus he endeared j.imself to men individually. His 
sense of truth and justice vv'as quick and vivid, although 
his resjiect for sincere opposition was jierfect, and so 
he was not easily misled; thus he obtained th(3 con- 
fidence and respect of those who could not gain his aid, 
as well as of those who were the recipients of his favor. 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 77 



His life was pure, generous, and blameless ; free from 
all shadow of suspicion or rej)roacli, and all who knew 
him had faith in his fidelity to his principles and to his 
State against all pressure and temptation. 

And therefore on all sides there gathered around this 
earnest, fervent, hearty, patriotic man, the pride, the 
confidence, and the affections of his whole people, who 
now mourn his loss as an individual bereavement, as 
does he who ncnv addresses you, whose relations with 
that noble man were of such affectionate intimacy and 
good-will as would make him fitly turn away and weep, 
rather than speak the language of deserved eulogy. In 
a busy, useful life he has filled his allotted sphere, and 
discharged his trust. " With enmity toward none, with 
charity toward all," he has lived and died. Mr. Presi- 
dent, as we gather hope and wisdom even out of these 
sorrowful duties, let us remember that it is good deeds, 
and not the lingering years, that make up the full, true 
life of man, and that crown him with his best rewards. 



Address of Mr. McDougall, of CaUfornia. 

Mr. President: I feel that I should not slumber 
well to-night without the utterance of one word to dig- 
nify the late senator from Vermont. Myrrh and frank- 
incense were the symbols of praise in the old Hebraic, 
and that praise, it was supposed, went up above. There 
is another lesson in another school, perhaps as ancient 



78 ADDRESSES ON THE 

but not as anciently recorded, that the dead rested in 
their caves until their praises were hymned by the 
songs of" bards, and then they were freed IVoni their 
caves and went to the heavens. It is my impression 
that th(! late senator from Vermont was one of the 
nol)le men who adorned this Senate, adorned our gov- 
ernment, and distinguished his State as Vermont has 
1)een (Ustinguished. There is something in, her pine- 
clad hills and tall mountains that makes great men. I 
do not know the man with whom I have met in the 
tide of my own times who was better fitted for public 
service than the late senator from Vermont. Every 
one in the Senate chamber felt, when he came here to 
present himself, whether in the President's chair or in 
his own seat on the other side of the chamber, that he 
was an ornament to the Senate, both intellectually and 
morally. It would be dithcult to convey in formal 
words the due compliment that all of us owe him, to 
give him the tidiness of his merit. I feel it due to 
myself, out of respect for him, liis high office, and the 
manner in which he conducted himself in his high 
olKcc, to say this much in his praise; and if I had a 
har[) like David I would sing to him as David sang to 
Saul. 

The resolution was unanimously adopted, and the Senate ad- 
journed. 



DKATII OF HON. SOLOMON TOOT. 70 



IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 



THURSDAY, MARCH 2<J, imi 



A mt'ssage from tbc Senate, by ]\Ir. F(jI{Nky, its Sccrctaiy, com- 
municated the following extract from it.s journal; which waa read: 

" L\ Si;.\ATE OF TflK UiMTKO 8'IATKS, 

"Marc/t 29, 1S66. 

" Resolved, (unanimously,) That the member.s of the Senate, from 
a (sincere d(;sire of showing every mark of respect to the incimory of 
Hon. Solomon Foot, deceased, late a senator from the State of 
Vermont, will go into mourning for the residue of the present session, 
by the usual mode of wearing crape on the lei't arm. 

" Resolved, (unanimously,) That the Senate; will att(;nd the fune- 
ral of the deceased from the Senate chamber at one o'clock to-day, 
and that the committee of arrangements, consisting of Messrs. Doo- 

LITTI.K, A.\THO\Y, lIoWAIUi, IIjiNDRICKS, SllKRMAN, and litCKA- 

LEW superintend the same. 

'^Ordered, That the Secretary communicate these proceedings io 
the Hou8(; of Representatives." 

• 

Mr. MoiauLL. Mr. Speaker, 1 learn that senators who desire to 
submit remarks in relation to the life and character of the eminent 
senator from Vermont, whose decease has just been communicated 
to this House, arc not ready to do so to-day. '^i'he family of the 
deceased were desirous to reach home this week, and therefore the 
funeral ceremonies could not b(! deferred. I may also state that 
some of my colleagues are at the present moment absent ; and I 
trust that at some early day the usual opportunity will be afforded 
for submitting such eulogies upon the character and public services 
of the deceased as members may desire to off'er. 

I ])resent the following resolutions: 



80 ADDRESSES ON THE 



" Resolved, That this house has heard with dt-ep sensibility ^he 
amiouucement of the death of Hon. Solomon Foot, a senator in 
Congress from tlie State of Vermont. 

" Resolved, That, as a testimonial of respect for the memory of 
the deceased, the members and olHcera of this Jioiise will wear the 
usual badge of mourning for thirty days, 

" Resolved, That the proceedings of this house in relation to the 
death of Hon. Solomon Foot be communicated to the family of the 
deceased by the Clerk. 

" Resolved, That this house will as a body repair to the Senate 
chamber to attend the funeral of the deceased, at the hour of one 
o'clock p. m. this day, and upon its return to the hall that the Speaker 
declare the House adjourned." 

The resolutions were unanimously adopted, and the House took 
a recess until one o'clock, when it reassembled, and the members, 
headed by the Sjx'aker, the Clerk, and the Sergeant-at-arms, pro- 
ceeded to the Senate chamber to attend the funeral scu-vices of 
Senator Foot, after which they returned to the Hall and adjourned. 

THURSDAY, APRIL VZ, 1866. 

A mes«age was received from the Senate, by Mr. Forney, its 
Secretary, notifying the House that it had adopted the following 
resolution : 

" Resolved, That the Secretary of the Senate be directed to infonn 
the House of Representatives that the Senate, having listened to 
eulogies on the character and public services of Hon. Solomon 
Foot, a senator from the State of Vermont, lately deceased, out of 
respect to his memory, have voted to adjourn." 



Address of Mr. Woodbridge, of Vermont. 

Mr. Speaker : But a low weeks ago the distinguished 
senator whom w(5 now mourn arose from his seat in the 
Senate and [)ronounced a most eloquent and impressive 
eulogy upon his colleague, who had been gathered to 
his lathers in the fullness of his years, crowned with 
private worth and public honor. And now bef"ore the 
cypress leaf is wilted, or the first gushing tear is dried, 
we are called, in the providence of God, to a fresher 
grief for him who so freely mingled his tears with ours 
at the death of Judge Collamer, whom none knew but 
to honor and love. At that time Mr. Foot was appa- 
rently in perfect health. His constitution w^as unim- 
l)aired by any exposure or excess, and his splendid and 
almost unrivalled physical development gave promise of 
many years of vigorous and active life, for he possessed 

"A combination and a form, indeed, 
Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man." 

In speaking of the life and character of Mr. Foot, I 
shall simply attempt to do justice. Unqualified praise 
of the dead is never either in good taste or truthful. 
Human character is never perfect; at best it is only 
good in parts. Mr. Foot was born in Cornwall, in the 
State of Vermont, in 1802. He graduated at Middle- 
Iniry College with distinguished honor in 182G, and the 
same year became principal of the seminary at Castle- 



6 F 



ton. lie was tutor in ilio University of Vernioiil in 
1827, and again, from 1828 to 1831, principal of Cas- 
tleton Seminary, and by his earnest efforts and marked 
executive ability gave such an impulse and character 
to the institution that it ranked lor many years among 
the first of the classical schools in Vermont. In the 
midst of his faithful and arduous labors as a teacher he 
devoted the time usually given to recreation and the 
refined pleasures of social lil'e to the study of the law^ 
and in 1831 was admitted to the bar in Rutland, and 
immediately commenced the practice of his profession. 
For five years he was a member of the legislature of 
Vermont, and for three years speaker of the house of 
representatives. From 1836 to 1842 he was prose- 
cuting attorney for the county of Rutland. lie was a 
member of the constitutional convention which estab- 
lished the senate as a co-ordinate branch of the legis- 
lature of Vermont, in which body he actively co-ope- 
rated with his late colleague, Judge Collamer. From 
1843 to 1847 he was a member of this l)ody, and <h'- 
clined a third election. In 1850 he was elected senator 
of the United States, and occupied the position until 
the day of his death. 

Such is a brief recital of the i)ublic and official posi- 
tions occupied by Senator Foot, embracing a period of 
nearly a third of a century. Born of highly respect- 
able but comparatively poor parents, he was by force 
of circumstances thrown upon his own resources, and 
early in life acquired independent habits of thought 




atid aclioii. AVilhoiil any of llin adventitious siirroiiiid- 
iiiirs of" wealth, of station or ])atronage, without any of 
that extreme brilliancy of" genius vvhicli now and then 
startles and dazzles the world, he looked uj)on life as a. 
great reality, and upon siicecss as the reward of hahor. 
He was rather solid than showy. He lacked genius, 
l)ut ])oss(;ssed talent and judgment. His fjualities did 
not shine f"orth like the greater lights in Ihe heavens, 
l>ut there was in llicm a proportion and harmony which 
irave a moral irrandcur 1o the man. 

Senator Voor was what we call a self-made maii. \ 
do not at1rll>u1(; 1o him any ])articular credit for thai. 
'I'he term "self-made nian" is a mueh-ahused one. 
There is no royal road to grr^atness. Every man who 
comes to he a [)ower reaches it through ])ersonal efl'orl. 
The scholar is scdf-made, and becomes a scholar tlirough 
patient and exhausting labor and reflection. The j)ro- 
fessional man is self-made, and so is the merchant and 
the artisan. That Senator Foot succeeded where a 
weak will would have f"ailed is doublless Irue, and 
hence the greater honor to Ihe man. As a lawyer Mr. 
Foot was not learned. As a stat(.'sman he never seized 
uj)on new thef)ries or ventured upon untried paths. As 
a ijolitical economist he never originated new ideas or 
dev(;]oped old ones with extraordinary power, and yet, 
without (piestion, Ik; was one of the safest statesmen 
and most judicious legislators of the age. He did not 
resendjle the mountain, towering to the skies, barren 
and useless from its hci^rht, but rather the lesser enji- 



84 ADDRESSES OX THE 

iience, whose suniinit is covered willi the forest, and 
whose slopes wave with the yellow grain. He did not 
resemble the terrific shower, which destroys Ijy its 
vi(dence, so much as the gentle rain, which the earth 
drinks, and then dresses herself in new life and beauty. 
God granted Mr. Foot one of the greatest of 
earthly blessings, a loving, })raying, pious mother, who 
early instilled into his mind principles of reverence 
toward God, obedience to authority, and love of truth ; 
and throngli a long public life the great leading char- 
acteristic of his mind, and perhaps the highest power 
of his character, was his (hnoiion to truth — that high 
ethical truth which is grounded in the moral being and 
the titness of things, lying back of and deeper than 
refinements or popularities, n^aching down to the inner 
nature and elevating the moral forces. " His word was 
as good as his l)ond." No social or political combina- 
tion or inlluence; no sycophantic llatterer; no dastardly 
and cunning insinuator; no ex[)ectation of reward, ov 
place or power, ever shook the truthfulness of Solomon. 

1\)0T. 

Senator Foot was a patriotic man 

" He loved his laud because it was liis own, 
And sconied to give nuglit other reason why." 

He cherished the principles of the Declaration of 
Independence. He believcul that all num were creates 1 
free and erpud, and yet subordinated his acts and theo- 
ries to the Constitution of the land Constitutional 



liberty was his watchword ; and when by (brcc ol" law 
all men became al)solutely free, he was the earnest and 
fearless advocate of those measures designed to [)rotect 
Hie freedman in all his civil rights. But, sir, when the 
first gun was fired at Fort Sumter, and the cry "To 
arms!'' echoed from peak to peak of the mountains of 
his native State, then the nobleness, the ])atriotism, the 
generosity of Solomon Foot slione forth like a star. 
Calmly and serenely he met the issue, and everywhere 
infused into the people his own heroic and enthusiastic 
nature. And when at times during the progress of the 
rebellion the clouds seemed to lower about us, his faith 
in God and liberjy never taltered. lie trusted in the 
right. lie met and performed every obligation of duty 
without fear and without reproach. The highest and 
proudest encomium which a public man can ever re- 
ceive is justly his. Popular at home beyond descrip- 
tion ; elevated by the people to almost every office 
within their gilt; beloved, honored, and trusted, he 
always and everywhere proved himself an h(jnest man, 
the noblest work of God. 

He loved his native State. To him there was no air 
so pure as that which swe])t about her mountains; no 
water so sweet as that which bubbled from her crystal 
springs ; no grass so green as that which clothed her 
valleys ; and he now lies beneath the shadow of her 
hills, where the wind sings his recjuiem, and the solemn 
old })ines stand as sentinels over his dust. During the 
long and Ijloody rebellion, when suffering and death 



entered almost every liousehold, no wounded soldier, 
no \ve('])ing sister, no heart-l»roken wile or mother, ever 
called upon Senator Foot in vain. Their wants were 
his wants. Their .suiferiiig was his sullering. In sun- 
shine and in rain, in sickness and in lieallh, by tender 
and sy inpathi/ini,^ counsel, and hy active and elKcient 
ell'orl, he labored for their relief; and we may truthfully 
say for him, "When the eye saw nie then it blessed 
me. AVhen the ear heard nui it <rav(; witness to me, 
for I delivered the poor Ihat cried, Uk^ lalherh^ss, and 
him that had none to help him. 'j'he blessing of him 
Ihat was ready to perish eanu; upon nu', and 1 caused 
the widow's heart to sing with joy." 

"Mr. Speaker, it is a glorious thing lo live in this 
world. AVhen its Cr(^alor launched it forth in the pcv- 
fection of its beauty, the morning stars sang together 
tor joy. It was made for man, the last (>xercise of ere- 
alive power — for man made in the imager of God, into 
whose nostrils He breathed the breath of life. It is 
noble to live f()r the development of the soul. It is 
beautiful to ai)i)reciate and enjoy all the works of God, 
and all the endearing relations with which we are sur- 
rounded. It is glorious 

" To have 
Attentive luul believing faculties; 
'Vo go abroad rejoicing in tbe joy 
01' beautiful and well-created tilings ; 
'i'o love I be voice of waters and tbe .'^lieeu 
Of t?il\er fountains leaping to the sea; 



I)I:ATII Ol' IIO\. SOLOMON I'OOT. 



S7 



To llirill witli flio rich melody of ])irflrt 

Liviii}^ llicir lile ol' inunie ; lo he ^\iu\ 

III IIk; ;^;iy HiiiiHliiiic, icvirciil, in iIm^ hIoiiii ; 

To H('e a Itcuiily in I lie Htiniiip; U-iii'; 

To find culm Uioii^IiIh Itciicilli IIk; wliit^|M'iin{^' tree; 

To H('(' and licnr and Ihc'iIIic IIh; evidence, 

or CJod'.'^ dee|) wi.-^dom in flie n;ilinal woild." 

I)iit nutvc: Ix'.-iiililiil 1li;iii lilr is 1li(^ (l(';iili of llic 
(yliiisliaii. Mr. I^'oo'i", IVoiii I lie (•()iiiiii('nc(un(3iii ol" his 
sickness, seemed to Irel lli;ii lie would die, and when iln; 
iinid summons came he was ready. liis last Uioiierhi 
was for his eonnt ry, and his lasl, desire to look oul upon 
tiie heaidifiil sunli^dil, and this nohh; (uliliee, vvliert; he 
had laboi'ed so lono, und vvher(! he l)eli(;v(;d the ruiiire 
salely ofthe rej)ul)lie rested; and iJu-n, as illully salis- 
lied, will) cyo!: lull ol ccdesiial ra(lianc(;, he (^KcJaimed, 
" I se(! it! 1 se(! it! 'j'he <j^ates an; wid*; o|)(ai ! I>eau- 
lil'id ! iieaulilid !" and 1 he plaslie form was stilhid ; Ihe 
casket was hfoken, and Solomon 1*'oot cntc^red upon 
eternal rest. 

Mr. Speaker, I Ik; lile of a <(ood man lik(; that ol" him 
we mourn is not conliind to its immediate and most 
a|»[)areid. n;sulis. lis inlliu'nce liv(;s on, inspiiiner other 
m(;n to liv(;s ol" nol)l(;ness and duty. It is the pillar ol 
tire hy night and cloud by day, that salidy eruides us in 
our W(iary wandcsriners. Let us mark it well, so that 
when lo us tin; last dr<;ad sunnnons comes we eaeh 
may. 



" Go, not like the quarry slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach our graves 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him and lies down to pleasant dreams." 

I sLibniit tlie following resolution : 

Rt'suli-cd, That, as a further mark of respect for the deceased, 
the House do now adjourn. 



Add/ess of Mr. Banks, of Massachusetts. 

j\Ir. Speaker: The high respect entertained by tlie 
people of Massachusetts for the honored senator whose 
death has been announced by the Senate renders it 
proper that in tliis house, as in that of which he was 
a mend)cr, some tribute should be [)aid to his memory. 
It devolves upon me, in behalf of my colleagues and 
the people we in part represent, to discharge this duty. 
The State of Vermont acquired its territory from New 
York; but its early population was chieily I'rom New 
England. There has ever been between them and the 
people of Massachusetts an attachment that is due to 
common interests and origin. The anniversaries she 
cherishes are celebrated by us, in connexion with her 
sons, with the same spirit we give to those of the 
Pilgrim Fathers. In common with other States of the 
Union, we mourn this inscrutable dispensation of Provi- 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 89 

dence that lias deprived a jiatriot sister State of two 
sons so distinguished, so honored, so trusted, and so 
worthy, whose death she has been called to mourn. 
There is but one feeling, one manifestation: it is that 
o(" deepest public sorrow. Families suffer for the affec- 
tion of mourning families, citizens the loss of statesmen 
and counsellors in whose experience and patriotism 
they were accustomed to confide, and the State sym- 
pathizes with her sister State, bereft thus suddenly of 
her most trusted servants and brightest ornaments. 

It is but a short time since we were summoned to 
pay the last solenni honors to the memory of the sena- 
tor of Vermont, senior by years, if not in service. We 
are now called upon to render a fraternal and public 
acknowledgment of the high honors due to the memory 
of the then remaining senator. There are few charac- 
ters in American history more complete and perfect 
than that of Senator Foot, or whose service has been 
more varied, satisfactor3^ or important. The })uljlic 
life of the late senator, it is true, was identified with 
the Senate of the United States, yet he had faithfully 
discharged the minor, but not less important, duties of 
local and neighborhood government wdiicli are so 
essential ,to.the maintenance of our instituti(ms and 
so closely identified with the destinies of the nation. 
He had been student, teacher, professor, town officer, 
representative, speaker, attorney of the people, consti- 
tutional legislator, and for a brief period, limited l)y 
his own choice, a member of this body. He had 



90 ADDRESSES OX THE 



studied the science of medicine and of law, the logic 
and passion of popular assemblies, and, in the course of 
his long and useful career, served his native State in 
every public capacity, cxce[)t that of executive or 
judicial administrator of law. He had given much 
lime to pid»Hc s(M'vice in those public assemblies and 
associations of the people which are unrecognized by 
statute law, but which are of such paramount im])ort- 
ance to good government. Knowing liini as we do, we 
can well appreciate how much he (contributed, by his 
benign iniluence, in these unostentatious labors, to the 
j)r()si)erity and stability of the State he loved so well. 
Such services are the foundations of the State. They 
make Ibrms of government practicable here which are 
impossible elsewhere. They are the basis of American 
liberty. It is in such duties that the people learn to 
support, and legislators to direct, public administration. 
We cannot overestimate their importance when per- 
formed by men of eminent capacity or station, and we 
ought not to withhold irom public servants the honor 
due to those who faithfully discharge them. 

It was not until Senator Foot appeared in the Senate 
that his reputation became national and his character 
fitly appreciated by the millions that now mourn his 
death. It is not distinction that they lament; it is the 
loss of valued service. The reputation still exists; 
with the Inpse of years it briglitens; but the capacity 
for public service, now, alas! more than ever needed, 
is gone forever. He entered the Senate in 1851. 



m^UOHUBH 



Tlial inemoral)l(; year ushered in tlie most evciutful 
|)(ii()(l ef" our iiiilioiial career. Con<^ressional history 
divides ilsell" into three ])eriods. 'I'he first is thiit ol 
the; iiiJiiiortal Washin^H.oii. Il elosed with tljf; afhninit^- 
tratioi) (;(■ the sfieoiid Adams. Every President, with 
this exception, and n(;arly every j)iil>lie man, liad l>(;en 
niimljered with tlie founders of Slates, the lutvinis ol 
th(; war, or the fatliers oi" the Constitution. It was the 
n.'vohitionary (ira. 

The eh;ction ol' General Jackson Ijrought into ojK;ra- 
tion j)ew |)rinei|)les of action and new elements of 
puvvcr. 'I'Ik; West, then limited, with the exception of 
J.onisiana and Missouri, to the States east of the Mis- 
sissi]>j)i, first asserted its jxjwcr, arid assumed 1o shape 
the j)oli(y of the coiujtry in C(jntradistinction to that fjf 
1li<; Atlantic States, north and south. Its mission was 
the development of the continent and the maintenance 
and perpetuity of tlie union of" States. Secession and 
jiuUilication were the enemies it first encountered. 
The intellect of Webster dissipated the meta])hysical 
soj)histries of secession, and the mailed arm of Jackson 
struck down at one terribhi blow the hydra, millifica- 
tion. Althouj^h presented under ordinary fJjrms of 
legislation, it is now too aj)parent that the leading object 
of ;i portion of the j)eople during the latter part of this 
jjcriod was the extension and ])er])etuation of slavery, 
or, liiiling in that, the destruction of the govermnent. 
This struggle culminated in the measures of settlement 
iij 1850. 



It was ill tho succeeding year, at the veiy opening of 
the new age, that the senator we honor entered the 
Senate. The old parliamentary leaders were passing 
away. A few of the veterans still battled for a year 
or two, and then all were gone. New men had risen; 
old principles were to be affirmed with new zeal. The 
great States of New York and Ohio had broken the 
lines of ancient parties by unexpected and thorough 
revolutions in public sentiment, and sent to the Senate 
the present Secretary of State and the Chief Justice of 
the Supreme Court. Massachusetts suffered a still 
more surprising revolution of political sentiment, and 
was represented in the Senate by the senior member of 
her present delegation. Other States exhibited equally 
radical changes. 

The South, though suffering no revolution in opinion, 
had gained in unity of purpose and intensity of spirit 
what it had lost in authority and talent by the change 
of leaders. It was too soon apparent that the bleeding 
wounds of the country, though assuaged, w^re not 
healed. Power had not won the prize for which it 
struggled, and concession had not secured the peace it 
coveted. Contests occurred in different parts of the 
country upon the execution of the measures of settle- 
ment. The compromise of 1820 was abrogated. Lurid 
flauKis of domestic violence and civil vt^ar appeared in 
the distant Territory of Kansas. The presidential con- 
test of 185G first disclosed the organization of sectional 
parties. States threatened secession. The Hag of the 



country was fired ii])oii by domestic enemies. Open 
rebellion ensued, and the most desolating and terrible 
war of all history was followed by the surrender ot" the 
enemy, the cessation of hostilities, the dissolution of 
armies, and apparent peace. Neither the place nor 
occasion offers fitting opportunity for the discussion of 
these great events. 

The new senator from Vermont was called upon to 
grapple with the first and each rapidly-succeeding fact 
in the history of the unparalleled treason. Resistance 
to the purpose of the enemy, and the organization of 
measures and forces for the preservation of the country, 
opened to him a theatre that might have satisfied the 
highest ambition and the noblest patriotism. Never 
greater constancy, never higher wisdom, was demanded 
of man. In all this history the deceased senator, un- 
shrinking, unselfish, and equal to the occasion, bore 
well his part. It is enough for us to say, turning down 
here the leaf of history u[)on his career, that none of 
his august associates, either of the earlier or later part 
oi' this great period, were more worthy of the high 
office he bore. It is not now, in this presence, undue 
praise to say that in the review of sixteen years of 
memorable senatorial service, amid complications and 
perils unprecedented in our annals, he has left nothing, 
in word or deed, that he can wish to blot from his dying 
record. He satisfied the country he served. He 
strengthened the cause he honored with his support. 
His labors were attended with constantly-increasing 



success, and bis life, roumlecl to its full period, closed 
with the respect of adversaries, the confidence of con- 
stituents, the affection of friends, and the approval of 
the world. 

It would be unjust to claim for him in any especial 
degree those brilliant qualities of mind or manner 
which, in the judgment of some persons, constitute the 
grace and charm of parliamentary life. It was his 
apjiarent choice the approval rather than the applause 
oi" listening senators to command. All nations have 
regarded with pride the master-pieces of rhetoric and 
passion, as well as of massive reason and diction, which 
the w^orld calls eloquence. Our countrymen, perhaps, 
carry this reverence to excess. It is not by any means 
the highest attainment of statesmen, and often is found 
unaccompanied by any quality of mind or heart which 
c[ualifies men for affairs of government. Speech-making 
is scarcely a high art. It is rather what Dr. Johnson 
calls it — a knack. It is not comparable in real import- 
ance with the power of conversation or of debate in 
its true sense, still less capacity for administration. 
Exuberance, and even extravagance, of speech, how^- 
ever, arc the counterpart and accompaniment of liberty. 
A vice in individuals it may be, but it is the image of 
virtue in an age. But it is not in itself power, nor Ihe 
accompaniment of power. Power exists in integrity 
and truth. Rhetoric sustains as well the apparent as 
the real cause. Great rulers have been almost invari- 
ably silent, thoughtful men. If it were well to gild 



rc'ljncd gold or paiut Ihti lily, \vc riiighl add lo lljr; 
majesty of grcal; actions the afniierjcc and onjanjcnt of 
exuberant and (dofjuent diction. ]Uii the ^erjatfjr v. e 
rnfjurn n(;v(;r fliilfMl in strong logic, convincing illustra- 
tion, or intense n^ason, when it was required to satisly 
the world of the justice of his convictions or the wis- 
dojij (A' his principles. Speech in him rather served to 
sustain than command the judgnjcnt ]{<t had other 
avenues to the human lieait than those of imagination 
or persuasion. He silenced adversaries and sustained 
friends Ijy more effective, though less brilliant, ajipeals. 
He depended lor success upon mon; enduring and nobler 
qualities. Firmness of purjjose, fullness of experic^nce 
and information, integrif:y of principle, constancy to 
duty, purity of character, serenity of mind, correct 
judgment, unflinching courage, and unceasing and honest 
labor, were the weapons with which he won his con- 
quests or turned or struck a blow. In him spoke an 
earnest, intelligent mind, and the illustrious common- 
wealth he represented. Individual capacity and repre- 
sentative integrity gave him authority and won for him 
the unfading honors which will forever rest u])on his 
name. We recur with unalloyed pleasure upon this 
sad occasion to the principles which adorned the life of 
the departed statesman. Love of man and love of 
country illustrated every act of his public career. Jt 
is scarcely possible that it should have fjeen otherwise 
in private life. "P^'or where was public virtue to be 
found where private was not?" No trace of selfish 



aspiration, of" unmanly detraction, or sordid jealousy, 
tarnished his official course. I do not know, in this 
hurried estimate of character, wliat in him was wanting 
that is necessary to the formation of a pure, patriotic, 
Christian character. His life is proof that success in 
pul)lic service is not inconsistent with strict integrity, 
and that advancement does not always wait on dissim- 
ulation .and corruption. The manly simplicity which 
distinguished him ought not, in this age of ostentatious 
and effeminate luxury, to pass unnoticed. It was 
neither complaisance nor austerity. His manner was 
unchanged, whether in the Executive chamber, the 
Senate, the committee-room, or the social circle. He 
would have been the same to peer and peasant. The 
ripe age to which he lived, his unimpaired energies, his 
genial and generous temperament, his clastic step, and 
the jocund health so constantly beaming in his open, 
maidy countenance, all attest the purity of his habits 
of mind and body. They were those of the people he 
represented. He could doubtless have shared with 
pleasure in their mountain home — 

"A Roman meal, 
Such as the mistress of the world found 
Delicious, when her patriots of high note, 
Perhaps hy moonlight, at their humble doors, 
And under an old oak's domestic shade, 
Enjoyed, spare feast! a radish and an eggl " 

It would 1)0 the unanimous judgment of men that 
such (•ai)acity and experience ought to be spared for the 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 97 



direction of the generations tliat succeed each other. 
But the law of Providence is otherwise; one existence 
cannot span two lives. It is a consolation to know 
that the senator we mourn lived the time allotted to 
man, and that be died full of years and of honors. Ilis 
career is perhaps not yet ended. He who spoke the 
universe into existence, who said "Let there be light, 
and there was light," who created man in His own 
image, and gave .him dominion over the earth, may 
have called him to another sphere for higher duties. 
We may have yet the benefit of his love, if not of his 
care. It is but a step from one life to another, which 
all alike must follow, from the lea&t unto the greatest, 
until we are one with God! Happy it will be for us 
if, in sharing the common lot, we close a career as long, 
as useful, as honorable, as pure, as his whose loss we 
mourn. The great struggle which opened and closed 
with his career was finished. He had assisted in 
removing from the escutcheon of his country the foul 
stain that tarnished its lustre. He had fought the fight 
and kept the tliith. His name was honored among 
men. He had received the highest honors of his State, 
and of that Senate to which he belonged. He had 
completed his work. Surrounded by family and fj-iends, 
he reviewed his life and settled his accounts with man. 
He took his last farewell of those nearest and dearest 
to him. He made peace with God. He was conscious 
his end had come. He; caught even from this side 
glimpses of the l)lissJ"ul mansions above. He asked not 



7f 



delay. What restrains the flight of that immortal 
spirit! He has one thought, one last thought, more. 
It is for his country. He is lifted from the couch of 
death that his eyes may again rest upon its Capitol- 
The massive columns, the extended wings, the sculj)- 
tured emblems of its progress and power, the rising 
root; the majestic dome, the Goddess of Liberty sur- 
mounting all, and pointing the w\ay he was to follow, 
gave him the last taste of earthly pleasure! It is the 
palace of the people, the symbol of Union, the temple 
of Liberty, and with this sentiment impressed upon 
his immortal spirit he passed from earth to God! May 
his translation be to- us instruction and example. 



Address of Mr. Washburne, of Illinois. 

Mr. Speaker: On becoming a member of the House 
of Representatives in the thirty-third Congress, in the 
month of December, 1853, 1 first made the acquaintance 
of Solomon Foot, then a senator in the Congress of 
the United States from the State of Vermont. I had 
knowii something of his previous political history, and 
was aware that he had enjoyed in a high degree the 
respect and coniidence of the people of his native State. 
To possess the confidence and receive the support of 
the citizens of Vermont is no meagre or indifferent 
compliment. No State has ever guarded more carefully 



the selection of its representatives in the national coun- 
cils, for within my recollection no man in either branch 
of Congress from that State has ever proved faithless to 
lil)erty, or has ever had the stain of dishonor or venality 
upon his garments. It is in the Green Mountain State 
that there is to be found the type of the truest democ- 
racy, resting upon the immutable basis of universal 
intelligence and public virtue. In no State can be 
found a loftier patriotism, a more ardent love of liberty, 
and a more undying hatred of slavery than among the 
constituents of the late distinguished senator from Ver- 
mont. When maddened treason raised its parricidal 
hand to tear down the fabric of our government, and 
the torch of civil war was lighted, the people of no 
State rallied with greater alacrity and enthusiasm than 
the people of the State of Vermont. Her brave and 
hardy sons filled all her highways and byways ; they 
came forth from her iiills and valleys, and from all the 
gorges of her ever-green mountains, and marched with 
the rapidity of the eagle to the defence of their imper- 
illed country, and to vindicate the honor and the glory 
and the unity of the republic. I say, sir, to have-been 
honored and trusted by such a people to the extent that 
Mr. Foot was honored and trusted is one of the highest 
compliments that could have been paid to a public man. 
As lias l)een stated, he entered the Senate in 1850, and, 
Ijeing twice re-elected, served continuously till the time 
of his death. Hence he served through the most ex- 
citing and turbulent period of our whole legislative his- 



tory, and was a participant in the revolutionary scenes 
which, to the philosophic observer, were the omens of 
that terrible civil war that has drenched our country in 
blood. I saw him in the Senate in the thirty-third 
Congress, one of the little band of courageous and pa- 
triotic men who resisted with unsurpassed ability and 
eloquence the repeal of the Missouri compromise. I 
saw him when the slaveholders, in the pride and inso- 
lence of their power, undertook to " crush out" in the 
Senate every aspiration for liberty, and every noble and 
elevated sentiment of freedom ; when treason, upheld 
l)y a perfidious and treacherous Executive, stalked 
through the Senate hall with brazen impudence, and 
when the galleries howled their applause of traitors. 
Undaunted and undismayed, while all the poUtical ele- 
ments were lashed into fury around liim, he l)ore him- 
self in a manner becoming an American senator, and 
courageously vindicated his own lopinions and the sen- 
timents and convictions of his own liberty-loving con- 
stituents. From his long association and thorough 
acquaintance with the southern senators, Mr. Foot 
early fathomed their wicked designs and their treason- 
able purjioses, and from the moment those purposes 
found an utterance in the hostile camion that opened 
upon Fort Sumter, his heart and soul, his thoughts and 
his energies, were all given to his country. With a loy- 
alty so devoted and uncompromising, witli a love of 
country amounting to a passion, he everywhere de- 
nounced treason and its aiders and abettors with the 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 101 



most vehement indignation. At the time of his death 
he was the oklest member of the Senate in consecutive 
service. Every year increased his reputation and con- 
firmed his character as a steadfast friend to his country, 
an enhghtened statesman, and a wise and incorruptible 
k^gislator. He was a man of education and intcUigence, 
of a vigorous intellect, and an enhghtencd understand- 
ing; of giant strength and an imposing presence, he 
was a genuine specimen of a Vermonter. As ])rcsiding 
officer of the Senate for a long period he distinguished 
himself by his promptness, dignity, urbanity, and fair- 
ness. He brought to the discharge of all his duties a 
conscientious devotion to the best interests of the na- 
tion. Active, industrious, vigilant, no duty to his con- 
stituents and the country was ever left unperformed, 
and so prompt and regular was he in attendance upon 
the daily sessions of the Senate that it could be said of 
him as the historian says of the younger Cato, " he was 
always first at the Senate, and went out last." 

Mr. Foot bore a prominent part in all our legislation 
during the war for the Union, and his influence and 
vote were always given to the most energetic measures, 
and those best calculated to strengthen the hands of the 
government in its gigantic task of saving the country. 
To the administration of Mr. Lincoln he gave a warm 
and. even an enthusiastic su})port. I had occasion to 
know of the strength of his attachment to that distin- 
guished man, and to know how gratefully his friendship 
was reciprocated. Mr. Lincoln had not in the whole 



length and breadth of the land a more eai-nest and sin- 
cere friend, and no man stood by him through all the 
perils and difficulties of his administration with more 
unflinching devotion, and the people of Illinois will 
cherish this remembrance with gratitude. And when 
the time came for the representatives of a great and 
heart-stricken people to pay the last tribute of respect 
and atfeCtion to the memory of their martyr President, 
it was litting and proper that Mr. Foot, the pater sen- 
atus, should, as the chairman of the joint committee of 
the two houses, be charged with the management of 
the proceedings. Profoundly anxious that the ceremo- 
nies should be worthy the august occasion, he entered 
on his duties with zeal and enthusiasm. Pie devoted 
himself with untiring energy to the accomplishment of 
the purpose. No man understood better than he did 
what belonged to such an occasion, and he gave his 
personal attention to all the details, and saw for himself 
that nothing which was necessary to be done was left 
undone. The day was cold, stormy, cheerless. At an 
early hour Mr. Foot's duties commenced. The crowd 
was great, and the pressure for admittance was tremen- 
dous, and he had to exert himself to the utmost to see 
that order was preserved, and that the arrangements 
were properly carried out. And all who were present 
know how admirably and satistiictorily everything 
passed olf 

Though it was my fortune to be associated with him 
in that duty, it is Ijut just to say that all the credit of 



the successful mauagemcnt of the ceremonies belonged 
to him. After the i)rocee(lings were over, exhausted 
and overcome with fatigue, Mr. Foot went to his lodg- 
ings, and that night was attacked with the disease 
which terminated his liie. I saw him at his rooms two 
days after he was taken sick, and he then believed him- 
self so far recovered that he would l)e enabled to go 
with me the next morning to call on the distinguish(Ml 
citizen who delivered the (ndogy, and to convey to him 
the resolution of Congress, re(|uesting a copy of the 
same for publication. lie was not, however, a))lc to 
go, but sent his colleague in the Senate, Judge Poland, 
in his place. On the next day, Friday, the IGth day of 
February, the late senator from Vermont ap})eared in 
the Senate for the last time, and made his final re])ort 
as chairman of the joint committee of arrangements, 
and his last motion was, that " the report and accom- 
panying papers be printed." He continued to take a 
deep interest in the publication of Ihe eulogy and the 
proceedings connected therewith, and the last official 
act of his life was to api)rove a portrait of Mr. Lincoln, 
which is to be the frontispiece to the volume of the 
])ublished proceedings. 

Mr. Speaker, when we contemplate the great changes 
that have taken place among the public men who were 
associated with Mr. Foot when he first entered the 
Senate, and since the time when you and I first entered 
these halls, we are admonished how fleeting and evan- 
escent are all things human. How few are left to 



104 ADDRESSES ON THE 



struggle on hut yet a little longer, to buffet the waves and 
encounter the storms and the tempests of political Mfe ! 

"Apparent rari nantes, iu gurgite vasto." 

Vermont mourns the loss of her faithful and devoted 
public servant, and the nation shares in her grief. He 
followed, alas! too soon, him who had so lately been his 
colleague. The mournful accents of eulogy pronounced 
in this chamber upon the illustrious Collamer had 
scarcely died away before we were called upon to follow 
to the grave his companion, adviser, friend, so long asso- 
ciated with him in the service of the country. These 
two great American senators, both alike eminent for 
their Christian virtues, their eminent statesmanship, 
their devoted patriotism, their long and useful public 
services, and their unsullied integrity, have passed 
away, and the places on earth that have known them 
will know them no more forever. They have gone, but 
they have left to the country the richest legacy in the 
recollection of their well-spent and honored lives. 



Address of Mr. John L. Dawson, of Pennsylvania. 

I rise, Mr. Syeaker, to second the resolution of the 
gentleman from Vermont. In the discharge of public 
duty the paths of the senator and the representative, of 
necessity, lie measurably apart. Most of Mr. Foot's 
political convictions were not mine. With such ob- 



stacles in the way of intimate relations, either private 
or official, I cannot, of course, reveal those finer and 
higher qualities of his nature which great spirits like 
his never parade before the world, and display only 
upon impulse to the most sincere and afiectionate of 
friends. But I know of him what all men knew of 
him, and I esteem it a privilege which any just man 
might seek to add my voice to the universal exclama- 
tions of sorrow which his death has wrung from every 
part of the land. It is unnecessary to repeat here Mr. 
Foot's long and arduous services in public place. The 
country is familiar with his record. 'It is enough that 
his own State kept him so long in the Senate that at 
the close of his life he was regarded as the lather of 
the body — the oldest of all in continuous service. He 
mingled in those debates of the Senate which the 
common judgment of mankind assigns a place beside 
the grandest specimens of classic oratory, when they 
were conducted l^y statesmen who were the rivals of 
Chatham, Burke, and Fox. He sat under the impetu- 
ous eloquence of Clay, the terse and severe logic of 
Calhoun, the rich and luminous periods of Webster. 
He was there amid those portentous scenes which pre- 
ceded the late civil war, when all hearts were oppressed 
with the deep dread of coming disaster, when the 
friends of free institutions in the Old World, and many 
in the New, feared that the American Union was 
crumbling into fragments. It was the mightiest conflict 
that ever shook the earth. He saw from that hiirh 




theatre, as well of contention as of observation, the rise, 
career, and downfall of several political parties Of 
such long experience, full of years and full of honors, 
wise and prudent, pure and upright, brave but philo- 
sophic, surely Solomon Foot was the Nestor among 
his official peers. Few men's opinions were ever sought 
with more respect or received with more reverence than 
his. In the midst of a revolution, second only to the 
"reign of terror" which drenched France with blood, 
and filled her beautiful cities and gardens with the 
graves of her people, when all our fiercest passions 
were aroused, his counsels to the ends of moderation 
and justice, soothing and subduing the vengeful feelings 
of the time, fell like the voice of that "old man elo- 
quent" under the gates of Troy. Though he was gifted 
with remarkable firmness of purpose, and his mind had 
a sort of Roman vigor, he was eminently a good and 
eminently a mild man. It may be said that he com- 
bined the modesty of a woman with the constant 
integrity of Cato. Of Mr. Foot's moral character I 
need only say that it was without and above reproach. 
He was fearless and determined in the assertion of a 
right; but he was equally careful of the rights of others. 
No lure and no force could seduce or drive him to the 
perpetration of that which he knew to be wrong. lie 
had that judicial cast of mind which constrains its pos- 
sessor to analyze thoroughly, with patience and perse- 
verance, whatever is submitted for decision, and to 
eliminate, witli unerring precision, all the elements of 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 107 



evil. If he had not been a great senator, he would 
have been a great judge. The circumstances of Mr. 
Foot's departure from this life were of too sacred and 
hallowed a nature to be detailed here. Conscious that 
dissolution wa^ rapidly approaching, he showed the 
high qualities of his character in the religious fervor 
and the steadfast hope, which grew warmer and stronger 
as he died. To the very latest moment he shed upon 
all who entered his presence the inspiration of a large 
and enlightened soul. The last parting glance of the 
expiring senator was turned to the dome of this Capitol. 
He begged to be lifted that he might see it once more — 
the scene of his long labors, the spot wiiere he had well 
earned the veneration of his countrymen — and then 
closed his eyes on the earth forever. It was the exhi- 
bition of the same patriotic fervor so eloquently ex- 
pressed by Webster in his reply to Hayne. He rejoiced 
to see that the flag was still there, "full high advanced," 
the emblem of our nationahty and the Union of the 
States. Mr. Foot has gone to his grave in the same 
soil with that other pure and honored senator of Ver- 
mont, who preceded him but a few months. It is said 
that amid the mighty mountains freedom loves to rear 
her brave and sturdy children. But no mountains on 
the globe, not even those of Scotland, which overlook 
the grave of Bruce, or those of Switzerland, which cast 
their shadows over that of William Tell, have ever kept 
sentry over the tombs of two nobler men or hardier 
patriots than do the Green mountains of A^ermont. 



108 ADDRESSES ON Til 13 



Address of Mr. CJkinnkll, of Iowa. 

Mr. SrKAKKii: 'V\\i^ words of all'cclion wxv few, and 
only llioso shall 1 iidcr. II is a ploasiiii;; rolloclion liiai 
luy oarly yrars woi-o spent near I lie nio*iinlaiii liomc of 
the laiiicnlcd senator. lie ijfave nie assurance of his 
iViendshii) ; an<l llial he cherished the inein!)rv oi" my 
dearest (h'l'cased kindi'cd lurnishes nie an occasion to 
|)ay a hv'\c\' and sorrowlid trihntc to his character and 
virlnes. '^Pliat hioii^raphy which follows the enloii^istic 
sketches in tlu; forimi will j)lace the deceased in the 
front rank ol our truly Americanized <i^onllemen and 
statesiiKMi, the measure of whose success should Ix^ un- 
Sepurated irom the associations and means l>y which it 
was attained. 'V\\o i»rave senator ever with emotion 
and pride spoke of the rural town of Cornwall, \'er- 
mont, where lie was born. Its population is not a 
thousand souls, and less than at the hei^nmiinii; of this 
century, yet has the distiiiij^uished honor, in addition to 
an intelliiicnt yeomanry, that of ("urnishint,^ thirty-si.\ 
educated cleri>ymen, eii,ditcen lawyers, twenty-llire(^ 
j)iiysicians, and l()urteen prolessional teachers. Its 
town institutions were tlu^ churcli, tlu^ lyceuni, auvl the 
school. In the church yomii;" Solomon was l)a|>ti/ed; 
at tile lyceuni he spoke to i^ive promise of future emi- 
nence: and the school he left to hecome a teacher and 
colleiic ijraduale, later tutor, and lounder and head of" 
an institution of learniuii^. II(^ honored the vocation 
t)f the schoolmaster, and never wc^iried in i^iviuLi; this 



ijEA'ni OF HON, hOLOJMO-N i OOT. lOj 

JjumbKj profr^HHlorj cutd'ti \'ur jIh d'^vofion lo a n;f)fjf;(J 
f;jvjJjzatJorj arjfJ Ihf: 'yicjif'.ml w*JJaro. •\Villj IrijJy Af/j'tri- 
can hjnjjilicity \i(t lauj/hl our }'o(j1}j H<'M'-r(t['i'dftcji, and lor 
hJffiK'::]f' }j'.' o\vf;fJ it()\\i'ui'^ to v,'<;aJl[j, tho parljalily of 
f'ri'jfjd^, or ibc ihhuo of cafrj];aii(nis. J Jo ntisurdfui it ah 
forlunato that fio wan calJod in dihojjjjjfjo 1/> trr^ad tho 
futni, rough patljH of iJlo. JIo wah proud of hJn or'i'/m ; 
and tfjat filial aflodion of a f'athorJoHh fjoy for a dolj/jj/ 
afjd devoted mother wan an miuury of future fidelity 
and devotion to the riatiorial weal most forl.ufjate'ly 
realize^l in more than a qixarter of a cefitury of nerviee, 
and ending with one of the moht gJoriouh trif^utoh ori 
record to tfje wortJj of parenf;al inhtruetion and tfje 
reality and value of the Chrihtiiin religion. Ah huhhand 
and father he waK doting and beloved ; a scholar wiili- 
out pedarjtr}' ; a gentleman free from the atlh of the 
cjmrilftr; ]}r3i\(i in action without bravado; matchh;h^H 
in volume and HweetrxehK of voice; perhuahive in elo- 
quence, y^ft abHtemiouj* in ><f>eech ; genial ah a com]>afi- 
ion, unwavering in friendivhip; in society 

" J-'liarjt a'r: r<:^><is wlifrrf; Ktr<:Ami-; <A' ir<y<'Aom j^Jid*:;" 

A henat^^r and fetateiiman, 

" I'in/j as ili<; IjjUk to )iU;m oijijkshuou'h tide." 

W'heeling in oAdian on life's htrr:^m, he could not [pre- 
vent the gaze of the multitude, and ever in the pre^en^M; 
of the ciaimh of iionor, mercy, and jubtiw, hii< noble 
heart wais so iuo\(iii tliat thife is its fitting ax>;^>rd and 
representation : 



"His life was gentle, and the elements 
So mixed in Iwm, that Nature might stand up 
And nay to all the world, this wa« a man." 

Boroavf'd and galhiiil jx'ophM)! Vcniioiil, inillioiis arc; 
ill iiioiiiiiiiii^' with you to-day. Memorable in liislory 
and conspiciioiis hy tlio scrvico ol" your public; servanls, 
it has hccii your Ibduiu! (o runiish a iioblo (ixciiijilar 
lor IIk; nation, ri'Ik'cting in character the grandeur ol" 
}()ur evcu'-green nu)untains and the clear waters distilled 
ill Iho rugged dills by Ihe juiiity and beiK^liceiice ol'liis 
niemorable lile now ended. In th(3 shadow of Ihe slial'l 
of the purest nutrble whicii will \)c. reared to comnienio- 
rat(; his virtues in the chosen j)lace of his burial, he 
shall sleep with more than the honors oTa martial hero, 
H)r her(; he met a mightier than earth's mailed soldicM', 
the "king of terrors," and with a smih;. AN'ith a pre- 
monition of an early dissolution, he was raised from 
his pillow to gaze once more upon this Capitol, and 
then, with mortal vision ended, to behold in its bright- 
ness the city ol" the living (}()d, the home of tlu; ran- 
somed soul. 

Mr. Speaker, the eil'ort to enlorce the lessons otsueli 
a life illumined by divine smiles would be almost a pro- 
fane altein|)l. it has more than tlu; award of the gods. 
Sol creticentes decendens dupUcat umbras, and by so tar 
as eternity is unmeasured by time will his setting sun 
add to the lengthened shadows. I would accept it as 
a high honor to have recognized the proifer of the ser- 
vice, which I would make, by the thousands in the west 



ulj(^ claim |)al(;rnlly with llic sons of the tiKjunlaius wlio 
Ijave l(.'fl the old house-tree, in beirjf^ their lionorfMJ ser- 
vant in \)(-'dn]i<r the llowc^rs of allcetion IVoin the prai- 
ries, the valley, and the- ni(jiintaljis, tnoiKt(,'n(;d vvjlh Iheir 
tears in memory oi" a iriend vvIkj now sleeps in sej)iil- 
turc among the people whom he faithfully served, and 
by whom he was so ardently loved. 



Address of Mr. Mokkili.. of Vermont. 

Mr. Speaker: Never before in the history of our 
government has a State been called upon to mourn the 
loss of both its senators at a single session of Congress. 
\'ermont weeps, for her senators are not. Only a f"ew 
days since and our tribiites (jf sorrow bedewed the 
grave atjd wreathed the memory <A' Collamer, wliose 
unblemished career had conferred honor not only upoji 
his State, but upon our whole country. Then the 
senator whose decease we now mourn spoke, in un- 
broken health and strength, of the life and many virtues 
(){ his late illustrious associate in terms of great fulness 
and rare beauty; but how remote from him was the 
suspicion that in so brief a time his survivors would 
be called upon to delineate his own character, his 
private worth, and j>ublic services, not less conspicuous, 
and, though much unlike, moving in orbits wid<;ly 
apart, equally meritorious. Seldonj has any State bf;en 



represented by the suine senators for so long Ji time, 
and still nion; seldom so littingly rej)resente(i by those 
of so much eminence and uncjuestioned integrity and 
ability. 

My colleague (Mr. Woodbridge) has so ha|)i)ily and 
eloquently portrayed the history oi" Senator Foot, while 
others have so generously acknowledged his worth, 
that little more remains for me to contribute. Like; 
many men who have ris(Mi I o distinction in aft(;r. lite, 
(to copy his own language; appli(;d lo another,) "he 
ovved nothing at all to Ihe fiu',titious aids or the ac(;i- 
dental circumstances ol" birth, or fortune, or liunily 
])atronage." Having lost his liitJuir at the early age of 
S(!V('n ^ears, he was iiKhibted to an excellent and pious 
mother lor his early training and instruction, and l()r 
the foundation ol" those high-toiu;d princi[)les of honor 
aiul integrity which always guided him as a privnte 
citizen and distinguished him as a pul)lic num. Not 
born to aillucnce!, he was while yet a \)oy taught the 
lesson of earning his bread by the sweat of his brow. 
An incident at this time shows that his ambition had 
early been touched by th(3 ethereal fire. A man with 
whom he lived for a short time, when about fourteen 
years of age, S(!nt him with a team to "drug" in some 
seed sown the previous day. Along in the middle of 
the forenoon the team was discovered witliout a driver, 
and the work accomplishcMl ap])(\ired v(;ry inconsid(!r- 
able. At last young Foot was I'ound in a corner oltlie 
fence, lying flat on the grass. To the question as to 



DEATH OF irON. SOLOMON FOOT. 1 1 .'j 



what he was doing thero he replied, "I arn thinking 
what I shall say when I <j('A, to be a member of" Con- 
gress." Thus "the child is the father of" the man." If 
any of these field thoughts ever IbiDid utterance in 
Congress, they had not to wait much longer than those 
said to have been conceived in the early morning on 
the ram])arts of Quel)ec, and which, many years after, 
enihellish(;d oixi of the most mcjinorable speeches of 
Daniel Webster. 

While yet a young man, Mr. Foot often repre- 
sent(Ml Rutland, the place of his residence, in the 
legislature of Vermont, and nearly as often was made 
speaker of the; house of representatives; and here 
he first displayed his extraordinary aptitude for the 
discharge of the duties of" a presiding officer over a 
deliberative assembly. This fiiculty was soon dis- 
covered and early recognized in the Senate of the 
United States, where he was repeatedly elected to the 
office of President ^^rt* tempore, and where he was, ])er- 
liaps, more frequently called to \\ut duties of the chair 
than any other senator. It is just to say that much of 
the dignity ascribed, as well as properly })ertaining, to 
that branch of Congress may be credited, lor the last 
fifteen years, to Senator Foot's high example of de- 
corum, order, and thorough knowledge of parliamentary 
routine. He despatched business with admiral)le 
])rornj)tness, with equal fairness and grace, and he held 
at all times both Senate and the galleries under complete 
contnd by his commanding presence and his most un- 



8 P 



mistakable emphasis. His call to order, like the sound 
of a trumpet, was heard and heeded. From his 
decisions of parliamentary law there was no appeal 
asked or desired. His dignified bearing and urbanity 
during his service in the chair, as well as in the faithful 
discharge of all other senatorial duties, his massive 
features and courtly manners, will cause him to be 
associated with and long remembered as a prominent 
figure — a representative man — of the Senate of the 
United States. He will also be remembered as one of 
the last of those who entered the field of statesmen 
while the great men of the last generation — Webster, 
Clay, and Calhoun- yet lingered on the stage. 

His speeches while in this house on the Mexican war, 
in 1846 and 1847, were able and fearless expositions of 
its origin and character, and received the hearty ap- 
proval of a large proportion of the northern people. 
In the Senate not all of his speeches have been re- 
ported in the Globe ; certainly one of his best never 
appeared, for the reason that he retained the report for 
revision until it was too late to .be inserted. His 
patriotism enfolded his whole country, and, bidding 
defiance to all party ties, when the honor and glory of 
his country seemed imperilled, he roused all the energies 
of his impassioned nature, and rushed to the rescue. 
This temper appeared in his speech, in 1856, on the 
Central American question, when Enghmd exhibited 
her traditionary ambition for universal empire, hy her 
pretensions connected with Honduras. He said: 



DEATH OF HON. SOLOMON FOOT. 115 



" Standing in opposition as I do to the present national adminis- 
tration ; differing from it as I do most widely and radically upon 
almost every question of domestic policy, I am the more happy in 
being able to accord to it the tribute, worthless though it may be, of 
my sincere and entire approval of the position it has taken upon this 
quL-stion. However we may be divided among ourselves, however 
we may contend and wrangle upon questions of domestic interest 
and of local policy, yet, when it comes to a question with a foreign 
power, wherein our national honor and our national interest are con- 
cerned, as in the present instance, let us exhibit to the world the 
beautiful and sublime spectacle of a great, a united, a hannonious 
people; a people having one mind, one heart, and one purpose." 

Among the speeches reported, that upon the Kansas 
constitution, better known as the " Lecompton swin- 
dle," was one of his best, and of marked excellence. 
The plot to force a pro-slavery constitution upon a free 
people was shown up with all its revolting features. 
Not a frequent speaker in the Senate, he was yet 
always listened to with attention when he did speak 
upon any subject; and upon those subjects immediately 
confided to his charge he possessed its entire confi- 
dence. His recent eulogy upon his deceased colleague 
was not only worthy of the occasion, Init was a good 
specimen of the senator's matter and manner, and when 
delivered awakened responsive chords in the hearts of 
all hearers by its impressive eloquence and chastened 
beauty. As a public speaker before a public audience 
Mr. Foot occupied no mean rank. His noble figure 
and full-toned voice at once arrested attention. Never 
begi'udging preliminary i)reparation, his s])eeches were 



L 



clear, forcible, and well sustained to the end. His style 
never lacked elevation, and, without being ornate, was 
affluent and scholarly. Though admirable in temper, 
he could yet employ invective at times with crushing 
effect, and declaimed with the daring impetuosity of a 
master who felt able to both ride and guide the storm 
he was creating. But his great strength lay in his ab- 
solute earnestness. His voice gave forth no uncertain 
sound. No man ever heard him speak and went away 
in doubt as to his meaning, or as to which side of the 
argument he had espoused. Having satisfied his own 
judgment that he was right, he embarked his whole 
soul and strained every nerve in the effort to bring his 
audience to the same conclusions with himself He 
was both sincere and positive, and utterly incapable of 
guile or double-dealing. His integrity, moral and po- 
litical, was as firmly fixed as the mountains beneath 
whose shadow he was born, and there was never any 
doubt or speculation upon any question as to where he 
would be found. When he spoke, therefore, he brought 
to bear not only cogent argument, but the influence of 
a true man, the weight of an experienced legislator. 

As chairman of the Committee on PubHc Buildings 
he had for a long period taken a deep interest in the 
work of the Capitol extension. His ideas were lib- 
eral — coextensive with the grandeur of the nation — 
and he would build well and for all time. He felt a 
pride in the splendors of the structure, fondly con- 
templated the time of its completion in all its parts, 



when all the vacant niches as well as the old hall of 
the House of Representatives should be filled with 
the statues of our fathers, when the surrounding 
grounds should be enlarged, and believed in the end 
the world would not be able to show government 
buildings and grounds more imposing or so appro- 
priately magnificent. It was the Capitol of a nation of 
freemen ! What wonder, then, that he should in his 
last hour close the drama by wishing to be so raised in 
his bed that his ey0*> might once more behold the rays 
of the morning sun glittering upon the majestic dome 
and illumining those halls wherein he had long Ijeen so 
noted an actor. He was a modest man, and obeyed the 
gospel precept, "not to think of himself more highly 
than he ought to think," and esteemed " others" better 
than himself Few men who spoke so well have been 
able to content themselves with speaking so unfre- 
quently. He always appeared to underrate his own 
performances, and never, I believe, circulated any of his 
speeches in pamphlet Ibrm, but he was generous and 
hearty in his appreciation and circulation of those made 
by others. 

He was a man of courage. When he served 
in this house, belonging to the old Whig • party, the 
great radical abolitionist from the Ohio Ashtabula dis- 
trict was also a member. Anti-slavery sentiments in 
those days found little favor anywhere, and here en- 
countered fiercest hate and frecpient violence on the 
part of slaveholding representatives. Mr. Giddings 



once told mc that upon one occasion, when he had 
uttered some unwelcome truth about the histitution of 
barbarous memory, one of these chivalric representa- 
tives rushed toward him evidently bent on mischief, and 
that Foot at once sprang to his side ready to meet the 
aggressor. The promptness of this action and the firm 
port of Mr Foot awed the would-be assassin, and he 
retired to his seat. Nobody, said Mr. Giddings, could 
doubt the meaning of the one or the other. 

The delicate as well as difficult duty of making up 
the various committees of the Senate frequently fell to 
his lot, and it was always performed with great discre- 
tion and fairness. Here his modesty was apparent, for 
he never so carved as to leave the choicest parts to 
himself Mr. Foot was industrious, methodical, punc- 
tual to all appointments, and never postponed the work 
of to-day for the greater leisure of to-morrow. What- 
ever he aimed to do he aimed to do well. 

He was proud of Vermont, loved her history, and 
wore her honors worthily. But he was not too proud 
to labor for the humblest of his constituents, and l^y 
his labors he added lustre to liis State and honor to the 
nation. 

If it Ije that God loves those who are ready for his 
coming " in such an hour as ye think not," or those He 
takes while yet in the full enjoyment of their strength 
and hopes, with mind and reputation as well as faith in 
the grace of God undimmed, then was Senator Foot 
fortunate as he was happy in the time of his death. 



Life was at its acme, and lie filled as large a space in 
the world as his highest ambition had ever coveted. 
He had not tired himself, nor was the world tired by 
his presence, but he seemed to see, as with a heavenly 
vision, a welcome awaiting him in the new world to 
which he was hastening, and exclaimed, "I see it! I see 
it ! The gates are wide open ! Beautiful ! beautiful !" 
Senator Foot was ])re-eminently a large-hearted man, 
nursing no ill-natured jealousies in himself nor in 
others ; far less did he indulge in any malice, and was 
the readiest man I have ever known to forget and for- 
give a seeming neglect or actual injury. Oj)ponents 
never found his tongue lubricated by the serpent's 
poison, nor did friends ever find themselves "damned 
by faint praise," for he was lukewarm in nothing, but 
distributed praise and blame openly, nianfully, and with 
a most refreshing unction. For his friends he was 
ready to make any sacrifices, jind he ol)eyed their be- 
hests witli a cordial alacrity never to l)e forgotten by 
those whom his position, official or other, enabled him 
to assist. Our volunteer soldiers and officers, so sud- 
denly called from industrial avocations to put down the 
great rebellion, received his homage and tenderest so- 
licitude. Of these he felt that the dead were all martyrs, 
the living all heroes, and his gratitude was unbounded. 
In his own State no public man ever possessed more of 
the affection of the people, as was sufficiently shown by 
his almost unanimous election by the Vermont legisla- 
ture for a third term to the Senate of the United States. 



120 ADDRESSES ON THE 



He always met his colleagues with the most cordial 
salutations ; no ill-wind ever rippled over the surface of 
their intercourse, and the most genial and affectionate 
relations were maintained up to the latest moments of 
his life. His loss to his family is irreparable, and so 
profound is their grief as to find no solace save in the 
contemplation of the dying senator's Christian faith. 
The last utterances of great men are often treasured up 
and serve to prove the strength of some ruling, possibly 
petty, passion of the deceased ; but rarely have the last 
words of any man been so fit to be reported to the 
world, or such as to be more likely to be forever en- 
graven on the hearts of his friends, than those of the 
lamented Senator Foot. Without an enemy in the 
world, loving God, and glowing with affection for all, 
and especially for those who visited him in his last 
hours, with eyes still beaming with all their w^onted 
brilliancy, his unimpassioned words, so clearly articu- 
lated, so lovingly tendered, were well calculated to touch 
every heart by their wonderful pathos. 

Honored senator ! true patriot ! faithful friend ! fare- 
well ! 

The resolution was adopted, and the House adjourned. 



